Married to a Broken heart
by Beej88
Summary: This is the third installment for What Dreams May come on Elite Squad B - Set post stars, our favorite couple, Usagi and Mamoru, are settling into a normal like after Galaxia's defeat. Suddenly, they are taken, along with the rest of the Senshi, by an unknown enemy that entrenches them in one strange nightmare after the next. Rated M for language and lemons.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hey readers! This story is actually the third chapter for a collaboration called, What Dreams May Come, with my fellow Moonies, Ninjette Twitch and Revy679 on page Elite SquadB. **

**There are two chapters that come before the one that I've written. Every chapter is written by a different author. You guys should read them, as they are amazing! **

**If you don't want to read them, this is the premise for this story.**

**Set post stars, there is a new enemy that has kidnapped Mamoru, Usagi, and the Senshi. They are all unconscious in a lab and have been thrust into shared nightmares. ****Mamoru is the only one that is aware that he is in a dream, and he has figured out that the only way to end each nightmare is by getting Usagi to admit that she loves him. ****Which is not easy for Mamoru, as each nightmarish world has been created with specific situations to tear our favorite couple apart. **

**These were the rules that we followed when writing each chapter dream/nightmare. **

**-There is always one other character that is awake with Mamoru. **

**-It is always from Mamoru's point of view **

**-Usagi must admit that she loves Mamoru to end the nightmare, but they are not able to tell her she is in a nightmare because if they do, the nightmare restarts from the beginning. **

**If you guys are confused, please head over to Elite SquadB to read the first two chapters, as I promise, they are so worth the read! Or feel free to review with your questions. **

**Married to a broken heart**

**Part 1**

He felt the pull of consciousness, the dulling numbness of the black abyss he'd been sucked into several times slowly fade away as he gradually became aware of his surroundings. He inhaled sharply and clenched his eyes shut as the dread of another nightmare curled up tightly into the pit of his stomach.

Mamoru was terrified to open his eyes; _who knew what the hell he'd been thrust into this time?_ The terrifying images of the nightmarish worlds, in which Usagi had purposefully been torn from him, flit through his mind. He flexed his hands, and the pads of his fingers slid across a smooth, cool to the touch, fabric that slipped listlessly across his skin. He mentally took note that his body was pressed into a cushioned surface that molded very comfortably around his limbs.

He took a deep, cleansing breath, forcibly hardened his resolve against whatever contrived horror was there to greet him, and tentatively opened his eyes.

Whatever he'd been expecting, it was definitely not the sight of beams, fixed across white painted, vaulted ceilings lined with crown molding. He blinked twice, expelled the bleary-eyed remnants of sleep from his eyes, and rapidly shot up into a sitting position. His head swam dizzily from the abrupt movement for a moment before the feeling subsided and he focused on the room.

He was in a bedroom he'd never seen before. It was spacious, open, with polished, walnut colored hardwood floors and expensive gleaming white furniture. It was dark in the bedroom as chic, grey chevron blackout curtains covered the windows. The only source of light came from the open-doored ensuite bathroom. It poured into the room and illuminated his figure tangled up in a billowing goose down grey duvet, and silken pale blue sheets in the middle of an enormous, California king-size, sleigh bed.

It was clear that whatever world he was in now, he was apparently living in luxury.

He sighed and raked a hand through the ebony locks of his hair in terrified frustration. The luxury didn't mean a damn thing, and the pressing need to find Usagi, _again,_ bubbled up from his chest and painfully constricted his throat. What kind of hell had _they _entrenched his Usako in this time?

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stretching an odd kink in his neck. He shivered, noticing that he was shirtless, sporting only a pair of dark gray sweatpants. He stood, frowning as he swayed slightly, before carefully padding barefoot across the floor to the bathroom. He pushed the door open and clenched his eyes shut as his vision was assaulted by the light. There was a dull throb at the back of his head, a nauseousness in the pit of his stomach, and dryness in his mouth that made it difficult to swallow. It almost felt like he was sick… though that wasn't quite right. No, he felt _hungover._

He could barely stand the light, but as his eyes adjusted, and his stomach settled, he took note of the glistening white-tiled surfaces of the bathroom that was probably bigger than his entire apartment. There was a white porcelain tub, white marble counters, -_so much damn white - _it made his stomach turn. He made his way to one of the two, his and hers, sinks and gingerly turned the tap on. The sound of the water pressure crashing against the surface of the raised glass bowled sink echoed throughout the silence and sent a shot of pain through his head.

He risked a look at himself in the mirror and grimaced at his reflection. He looked relatively like himself, black hair, angled, sharp features, but his eyes were bloodshot. He was _definitely _hungover.

He groaned out loud, cupped his hands under the spray of the water and splashed the cool liquid onto his face. It felt nice, and it was slightly refreshing, but he couldn't expel the panic in his chest. The terror of whatever daunting task lay ahead of him, paired with the _apparent _side-effects of whatever affliction this worlds Mamoru had indulged into the night before, overwhelmed him. He braced his hands on the counter, leaning forward with a bent head as he forced his quickened, anxiety-riddled, breathing to slow down.

The water on his face beaded and rolled along the length of his jaw, before dripping and falling onto the counter. He focused on one drop in particular that splashed unceremoniously, like a broken piece of glass, onto a gleaming, gold wedding band glaring up at him from his ring finger.

He gasped, his face whitening and his vision blurring as he focused on the offending piece of jewelry. _Oh, fuck. _Who the hell was he married to? It could be _anyone_ at this point. _God, what if it was Beryl? _How the hell could he salvage _that_? He desperately needed to see Usagi. The thought of her out there, languishing in whatever hell that they'd placed her in, while he stood in this excessively expensive bathroom, married to _someone else_, made him feel sick.

He allowed himself to feel one more moment of pressing panic and crushing despair, his knuckles turning white as he desperately clutched the countertop before he took a deep, cleansing breath. His eyes hardened with determination as he glared at his reflection in the mirror. He needed to figure out where the hell he was, and what world he was in. _Then _he needed to find out which one of their friends had managed to stay awake so that they could work together and get his Usako to _remember _so they could get the fuck out of here.

He stepped back from the mirror, the cobalt blue of his eyes locked unblinkingly with the ones in his reflection, as the determination in his stance slightly became tinged with dread. The first thing he was going to need to do was to find out who the hell he was married to.

oOo

It seemed like this world was not going to be something fantastical or strange, _thank God, _and he was relieved to find that the Mamoru he inhabited in this world shared his organization tendencies as he was able to quickly find his clothes, neatly pressed and hanging in an enormous walk-in closet. What he _did _find disconcerting, though, was the apparent lack of feminine apparel. There wasn't a hint of a woman's presence in this bedroom, except for maybe the choice of decor.

He didn't even live with Usako yet, and still, she'd left a signature of herself everywhere in his apartment; a forgotten sweater, a pair of pajamas tucked into one of his dresser drawers, and an ungodly amount of woman's cosmetics that she never put away. The vast array of hair products and makeup that she always forgot to put the lids back on after she was done using them, spread out over the bathroom counter. So, he knew, that if he was married in this world, there should be some kind of indication in his room, _right_? Woman's clothes hanging next to his? At the very least a pink toothbrush, with little-cartooned unikitty's etched into the handle, like the one Usako had left at his apartment. There was nothing like that here, and it made him even more nervous.

He dressed quickly and mentally braced himself as he pushed open the bedroom door and stepped out into the hallway. The blackout curtains in the bedroom had been _very _effective, as it was clearly daytime, and he frowned as his eyes found a large, ornate decorative clock with Roman numerals hanging on the wall just above a stairwell that twisted and led to the main floor of the house. It was 7:11 am, so relatively early in the morning.

He was intent on making his way down the stairs, his eyes scanning his surroundings for clues or something he could use to figure out where he was when his roaming gaze stopped and fixed onto another door that was partially opened.

He frowned as he pushed it open all the way, and his confusion only deepened further at the sight of another bedroom. The decor was very similar to the room he'd just vacated, except this room clearly held all of the feminine touches that had been lacking in the one he'd just left.

He stepped over the threshold, his eyes perusing the crumpled pink comforter on the same King sized, white painted, sleigh bed. He inhaled sharply, though, at the sight of several jackets slung over the white brocaded bench at the end of the bed. Several issues of the manga he knew that Usako read perched precariously on the bedside table, and in place of blackout curtains, there were sheer gossamer curtains, embroidered with pink lace that rippled in the wind that wafted in through the open window.

He swallowed nervously, feeling uncertain, though not understanding the reason why. He stepped further into the room, hesitantly making his way to a small desk pressed up against the wall. It was out of place, cheaper looking than the rest of the furniture that surrounded it. There were gouges, and scuff marks that marred the chipped brown paint that had dulled over time. It was the only brown piece of furniture in the whiteness that seemed to cover _everything _in the house.

Something churned violently in his stomach as it clicked into place, and he recognized the desk. It was the same desk he'd seen many times, and it currently sat in Usako's childhood bedroom in her parent's house. He strode to it, reached out and reverently ran his fingers over the grainy surface. _What did this mean? _Was this Usagi's room?

His fingers stopped as they reached a picture frame that lay face down amidst discarded papers, and more well-weathered issues of a Manga series he _knew _Usagi had read several times.

He carefully picked up the frame, turning it over in his hands. His eyes widened with confusion, then filled with a deep-seated relief that washed over him in warm waves. He wanted to weep he was so happy. It was a picture of Usagi, looking absolutely stunning in a white wedding gown. She was smiling up at him, lovingly enveloped in his tuxedoed arms. _He was married to Usagi. _In this world, he was married to his little Usako!

He wanted to laugh, the inclination bubbling up hysterically into his throat. They were going to get the hell out of here _so _much sooner than the last nightmare.

He should have known, of course, that it wouldn't be that easy.

"What are you doing?" He whipped around, startled, at the sound of the beautiful, _but strangely reproachful,_ voice that he recognized so well.

His breath hitched in his throat at the sight of her. She was a glowing blonde Angel of hope standing in the doorway swathed in a white, loose-fitting, sundress that billowed around endlessly long legs. He was lost in his overwhelming relief to have found her _so soon, _so it took a moment before he noted that the odangoed hairstyle that was so uniquely his pretty little Moon princess was, once again, absent. In its place was a thick, glossy, golden braid, threaded and hanging down her back. It was still beautiful, but he was still disappointed to see her signature hairstyle gone.

His heart sank as his gaze met hers and there was not the bright sparkle he loved to see in the sapphire blue of her eyes. Instead, he was greeted with a hardened glare filled with censure and irritation. Her pink bubble gum lips pressed into a grim, angry line.

_Dammit. _He should have known it wasn't going to be that easy. "What do you mean?" he said, nervously clearing his throat, and trying to ignore the dull throb still pulsing in his head.

She rolled her eyes, and strode towards him, her movements quick and filled with irritation. She stopped in front of him, yanked the picture frame from his hands and carelessly tossed it back onto the desk. He inwardly flinched at the sound of the metal casing as it hit the wooden surface with a dull thud. He froze, shocked by the _look _radiating from her eyes.

"I mean, what do you want, Mamoru?" she spat with irritation, her tone filled with a venom that tore at his heart.

He shifted uncomfortably and tried to think of something he could say. He wished he could just pull Usagi into his arms, crush his lips onto hers, and tell her _everything. _He'd tried that before. It hadn't worked then, and he knew it wouldn't work now.

He did decide to take a risk, though. "What? I can't just want to see my wife?" he said, and the word wife slipped tenderly from his lips as he waited with bated breath for her reaction. _Please be my wife. Please, let her be my wife._

She frowned, her eyes clouded with confusion before snorting and crossing her arms in irritation. "How much _did _you drink last night?" His face fell, and his heart clenched tightly. _No. _She just _had _to be his wife. "Since when do you care about having a conversation with your wife?" she sneered as she twirled her body, stepped away from him, and opened the door to a closet that was only slightly smaller than where his clothes currently hung in the other room.

The other room… _damn…._he was married to her, but, for some reason, they did not share a room. It was evident by the stiffness in her posture as she stepped into the closet, that was teeming with all the brightly colored clothes he knew she loved, that his Usako _hated _him. It took everything he had to conceal his heartbroken expression. This was worse than if he'd woken up married to someone else. _This was so much worse._

She roughly pulled a cotton fabric, soft purple sweater from a hanger and angrily put it on, her gaze burning as she glanced over her shoulder at him. "Seriously, Mamoru. What do you want? I'm leaving to meet the girls in like ten minutes," she snapped with exasperation. "Don't you have a shift at the hospital?"

He was at a loss for words. This nightmare fucking _sucked_. "Do I?" he managed to mutter, and Usako stopped and raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief. "Have a shift, at the hospital, I mean," he murmured pathetically. It would appear that he'd become a doctor just like he'd originally planned. The perfect life; big house, dream job, except that the love of his life _hated _him for some _reason_.

She exhaled deeply, looking upwards as if praying for patience before she shook her head in frustration. "You know, I don't really know where you go these days, Mamoru," she spat and flew past him, a whirl of white fabric and blonde hair. She stopped in the doorway, her frown deepening, "Look, stay home, go to work. Whatever. It's up to you, but if you're not well, you should probably get yourself checked out," she said, and her angry tone softened a little.

"You are responsible for saving lives, after all," she whispered, her back to him, and her shoulders stiff and unyielding. There was a sense of sadness curled into the whispered words that took his breath away. _What the hell? _How had the Mamoru in this world hurt her, destroyed her so severely, that she would talk to him _like that?_

He was at a loss for words, so by the time he thought of something to say, it was too late. She was gone.

He clenched his fingers into fists, pressing them firmly into his thighs as the anger and _injustice _of this world overwhelmed him. He let loose a string of angry expletives and furiously kicked Usagi's childhood desk. Screw the monsters that had put them here!

He was going to tear apart this stupid, contrived nightmare just like all of the other ones, save Usagi, and then find a way to tear them all to shreds.

His determination overtook his sad desperation, and he strode out of the room with purpose. He was going to go to his shift at the hospital, find whoever had managed to stay awake and get the hell out of here.

oOo

The minute he stepped into Tokyo's Saiseikai Central hospital, not really sure what to expect, he was descended upon by a domineering sullen-faced Kunzite. He'd stopped, frozen in place, as the reincarnated silver-haired General had barreled towards him with urgency and purpose that was both concerning and slightly terrifying. He was _still _getting used to the fact that the Shitennou from his previous life had _somehow _regenerated and were now also mired in these godforsaken nightmares whose sole purpose was to seemingly make his life a living hell.

The general grasped his arm angrily, his fingers tightly biting into the skin of his forearm painfully. "What the hell, Chiba? You are so _fucking _late!" he growled, and forcibly yanked him down the hall. _Hell_, he was late? _How was he supposed to figure this out?_

He stumbled a bit, but then caught himself, before pulling his arm away from the overly aggressive general. "Look, I'm sorry, it's been a pretty strange morning," he murmured, and he wondered if he'd managed to infuse enough contrition into his tone.

Kunzite scoffed, shaking his head in disbelieving disgust. "Bullshit, I know you were out last night with the residents," he snapped. "What the hell were you thinking, Mamoru? You missed the morning report led by the family medicine residents. Damn, you're t_he surgical attending physician._ You need to get your shit _together_! You don't get to show up whenever the fuck you want because you have a hangover!" Mamoru frowned at Kunzites anger-filled words. _Surgical attending physician? _He'd always intended to specialize in pediatrics, making this an unwelcome surprise. "The residents are just wrapping up their morning report rounds with the night coverage team. I suggest that you be on time for your patient rounds!" he practically snarled.

"Chiba, you damn well better be on time for the administration meeting this afternoon. I swear to God, if you make me look like a fool in front of the medical director again, I will _fire_ you," he snapped, gave him one last scathing look before he twisted around without another word and made his way down the cavernous hallway.

_Damn. _He was so screwed. He didn't have _time _for this. This job, no matter how prestigious, was not what he wanted. He wanted Usagi, safe and sound in his arms, and back in the _real _world.

He made his way through the hospital maze as he contemplated his next plan of action. He was only dimly aware of the beeping trills, the hushed whispers, the hurried patients and hospital staff that whirled past him as he slowly navigated the halls of a hospital he'd been to several times in his real life.

Usagi had mentioned that she was going to meet the girls before he'd left the house. He should have asked her where she was going, as he was sure that one of them _had _to be awake. It was a pattern, wasn't it? _One _of them had to be awake. His heart began to race at the thought that he might have to do this on his own.

He didn't know where he'd walked to as he was lost in thought. He stopped in his tracks suddenly, frozen by the sight of a familiar blunette leaning against the wall. Ami was dressed in hospital scrubs, her arms crossed as she stared pointedly at the ground. There was a scowl on her face, and she was biting her bottom lip almost… _nervously?_

He exhaled with relief, it was Ami that had managed to stay awake this time. "Ami," he whispered, his voice slightly cracked with emotion as he stopped in front of her.

She looked up, startled before her face crumpled into a look of devastation. _She was definitely the one who'd stayed awake. _He was so elated that he had someone to figure this out with, that he didn't protest when she grasped his wrist and gently pulled him through a door that he briefly noted had his name printed in white lettering, set into a black metal plaque. _Dr. Mamoru Chiba._

When they were through the door, and it clicked shut, he only spared a brief glance at the interior of the room that was apparently his office in this world, before turning his gaze back to the blunette that had whirled around to face him. Her aquamarine-colored eyes were wide and filled with unshed tears as she nervously wrung her hands.

He frowned, surprised that she was taking this so badly. She'd been awake before and had seemed so logical at the time. He wasn't sure why she was on the verge of tears here, in a hospital where according to her name tag, she was a resident, as opposed to their brief foray in Wonderland.

His brow furrowed as he took a step towards her, "Hey, are you okay, Ami? I know this is weird, but we'll figure it out," he stated with a conviction that he wasn't a hundred percent sure that he felt himself. It seemed like she needed to be comforted, though, so he would do what he could to get her back on track to being the calm and calculated Senshi of Mercury. He desperately needed her expertise to get them _out of here._

She gasped, her hands flying to her face and her fingers pressing onto her lips with a look of dismay. "Oh God, how did she take it, Mamo-chan? I never wanted to hurt her," she whispered brokenly. He opened his mouth to respond that he hadn't told her anything but stopped short as her words really registered in his mind. _What? Mamo-chan?_

His brow furrowed, utterly confused by her statement. "I'm sorry, what?" he croaked, a sneaking and terrifying suspicion creeping slowly to the forefront of his mind.

Ami swallowed nervously, shifting uncomfortably under his horrified stare. "Well, you said that you were going to tell her yesterday, and then you drunk texted me saying that you couldn't do it yet, but then you weren't here this morning… and well, you just said…" she trailed off as his expression grew increasingly more horrified with each word she spoke. _No. _It was not possible. He couldn't comfortably conceive the words that were coming out of her mouth, and the horrible things that they were implying.

He took a step backward, his heels colliding with the door as he reached back to brace himself against it. _He'd misunderstood. This had to be a misunderstanding. _"What are you talking about?" he demanded raggedly, his heart racing as his hands became slick with nervous sweat, and the blood drained from his face.

Her frown deepened, and the look of devastation melted into a look of confusion. "What do you mean? You don't remember texting me? Mamo-chan, I know you were nervous about your conversation with Usagi, but you really shouldn't have had so much to drink," she whispered _tenderly, _stepped towards him, placing a slender hand on his arm. He tore away as if she'd burned him.

A look of pain flashed over her face, her delicate features contorting into a mask of hurt as she blinked up at him. "Mamo-chan, I told you that I would not pursue this any further until you told Usagi how you felt. It's bad enough that we kissed," it felt like the blunette had reached into his chest and crushed his damn heart. Fuck. _He'd been unfaithful. "_But if you've changed your mind… I - I'll be hurt because I- well you know I have feelings for you."

He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't bear to hear another soft-spoken word from Ami's lips; his friend, _Usako's friend. _"Ami, stop, God, please. Just stop speaking," he gasped, and it broke his heart to see the tears that welled in her eyes, before silently rolling down pale cheeks.

She choked on a whimper and wrapped her arms around her midsection. Damn, she was heartbroken. This nightmare really, _really_ _fucking sucked. _"I- I understand, Mamo-ch… Mamoru-san. I'll…" she trailed off, suppressing a sob and furiously wiping the tears off of her cheeks. He wanted to reach out to her, but he couldn't, not knowing what the Mamoru of this world had _done. _"Please, don't keep your patients waiting because of me. I know I'm supposed to shadow you, but - Oh God," she burst into tears, and he jumped out of the way as she pushed past him, desperately trying to open the door.

In her grief, she was unable to manage the doorknob. He reached down, suppressing tears of his own, twisted the handle, and pushed the door open for her.

She raced through the doorway, a furious blur of blue hair and green fabric, as the door slammed shut, again, behind her. He cringed and clenched his eyes closed as the deafening sounds of the sob that had ripped from Ami still echoed throughout the office around him. He collapsed against the door, his breathing erratic, as he slid slowly down to the floor, with his head buried in his hands. _Damn. He could get through this. _He had to get through this.

oOo

He'd tried to just leave the hospital several times, but had been stopped, and pulled away towards the job that he'd apparently worked so hard to get. He'd become immersed in the daunting tasks that were a day in the life of an attending physician. It was exhausting, nerve-wracking, and _exhilarating._

If he were truly honest with himself, he absolutely loved the job in question, and it was everything he wanted in a career. He could see why whoever or whatever had put them in this nightmare might think that he might be too distracted with this to focus on making his Usako remember her love for him. They were dead wrong, though, and none of this was worth a damn thing if he was an unfaithful husband that went home to hatred burning in Usako's beautiful blue eyes every night.

Every time he spoke with a patient, laughed with a fellow or resident, the soft contours of Usagi's delicate features etched into his mind, and his heart twisted up painfully with guilt for staying here, entrenched in the illusion of this nightmare.

He did not find anyone else he recognized in the hospital, except for Kunzites sullen eyes, and Ami, whom he'd not seen since that gut-wrenching moment in his office a few hours ago.

He'd managed to slip away again, and he sighed with relief as he neared the entrance. He was practically home free when the silver-haired General stepped in front of him. He inwardly groaned and had to fight the urge to scream in frustration.

He stopped, shifting anxiously as he peered over Kunzites shoulder at the exit wistfully. _So close. He'd been so close. _"What do you want?" he snapped, frustrated irritation laced into his impatient words. Kunzite had been on him all day, his eyes like that of a hawk, questioning everything, and scoffing at all of his decisions.

He didn't know how it was possible, as he'd seen Kunzite at his darkest, but the general's cold stare became even more menacing. There was a fury radiating off of him that he did not understand. He knew that Kunzite was the head of his department, so _technically_ his boss, but he had yet to determine the reason for the hatred he apparently had for him.

The grey-eyed, silver-haired man, took a step closer, towering over him angrily. "Why is she in your office? Is the blue-haired resident not _enough_ for you?" he hissed quietly, his words filled with seething hatred. His heart clenched tightly in his chest. _Did everyone know about whatever the hell was going on between him and Ami? _The thought made his stomach churn violently. How could he have ever, _even in a fake reality,_ betrayed his beautiful, pure-hearted princess like that? With one of her friends, no less?

Mamoru's brow furrowed, his eyes and jaw hardening with annoyed frustration. One of the worst parts about being thrust into a life he didn't remember was the riddled statements from people, spouting things he should know, but didn't. He was so _damn_ tired of guessing what the fuck was going on.

His stance stiffened as he returned the generals scowl with one of his own. He was tired of catering to his intimidation tactics. "I'm not really sure what you're talking about, Kunzite. I'm going to need you to clarify your statement," he snapped, his words angry as he spoke them through gritted teeth.

Kunzite sniffed disdainfully and rolled his eyes, but there was something else that flashed over his face; a momentary display of vulnerability and sadness. "You know damn well what I'm talking about, Chiba. You're a snake, but I didn't think you'd stoop so low," he spat, his words ragged and filled with rage-filled venom. "You know what Minako means to me, Chiba," he said, and his eyes softened slightly, and his words were a little less angry and little more pleading.

Mamoru's eyes widened as his mind began to race. _Minako was here?_ He swallowed, trying to dislodge the anxious lump in his throat at Kunzite's words. "Kunzite, what the hell are you talking about?" he demanded, his fists clenched tightly at his sides.

Kunzite shook his head, his face contorted into a look of unfettered disgust. "I can't believe there was a time that I considered you a friend," he whispered, before he swiveled around, twisting away from him and making his way through the hospital lobby. "Give my best to your _wife_," he spat over his shoulder vengefully, leaving a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, and a cold dread building rapidly in the cavity of his chest.

He had two options now, he could walk out of the hospital doors, go back to his pretend, overly pretentious house, and try and face the unbearable hatred emanating from the love of his life, or he could turn around and meet Minako, that was apparently sitting in his office. There was a possibility, based on Kunzites hatred-filled words, that he was a cold-hearted snake, and Minako was meeting him for the exact same reason that Ami had been. Though, based on his heart-wrenching interaction with Ami, he seriously doubted that was the case. Which meant that Minako was here for only one other reason.

He turned back towards his office, his movements hurried and his heart pounding in anticipation. He hoped to God, with everything in him, that Minako was here because she was awake and remembered.

oOo

He hesitated, his hand poised on the door handle, as he tried to mentally collect his thoughts. There had been so many twists, his friends placed into carefully crafted situations, their personalities all molded into pawns. It was like they were strategically placed chess pieces whose sole purpose was... Well, he wasn't sure _what _the goal of all of this was. He only knew that he could end it the moment that Usagi was _his _again.

He'd done this before, and he would do it again, with _or _despite whatever version of Minako greeted him on the other side of the reinforced steel door that led into his sparsely decorated office.

He took a deep, profound breath of preparation and clasped the cool, flat-edged handle before twisting it and pushing the door open. It was soundless as it swept across neutral colored linoleum floors.

She was sitting in a red vinyl bucket chair. She'd moved the piece of furniture to face the doorway, clad in her signature orange, long legs crossed and curled primly in front of her. Her posture was stiff, hands folded in her lap, with glossy locks of blonde hair, feathered down her back and dusting the tops of bared shoulders. Her expression was impassive, though her lips were slightly pursed as he entered the room.

He couldn't get a read on her, so he had absolutely no idea if she was the one that had fought through the threads of horror that had been weaved for them.

He wasn't sure if the risk was worth it, and so he hoped he suppressed his facial expression well enough as he scrutinized her face. "Minako," he said softly, "what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?" he stated as cordially as possible.

Her eyes widened slightly, and then her face crumpled in disappointment, muttering a curse under her breath. "Seriously? You too?" She snapped, her voice hoarse and miserable. "I'm going to be really honest here, this has been the _day from freaking hell!_" she snapped, and gracefully uncurled her legs and leveraged the armrests to pull herself to her feet.

"You know, I don't even _care _if I sound crazy! You're apparently a doctor, right?" she hissed, taking a step towards him. His heart skipped a beat, and he sighed with relief. She _was _awake; thank God.

"Minako -" he began, but she raised a delicate hand into the air, effectively interrupting him with a toss of her hair.

She blinked twice, closed her eyes as if praying for patience and let loose a loud, long and dramatic sigh. He inwardly rolled his eyes. _Classic Minako. _"You are not going to believe the day I've had, and when I say that, it's not just me being all dramatic-like. I'm totally serious, Mamoru," she said, her voice rising in pitch as her words became tinged with slight hysteria. "So first of all, I wake up in this room - and like, the room is totally cute you know?- but it's not mine!" she began, and he took a step towards her.

"Minako -"

"No, seriously, you're a phsychoanalyst, right?" she interrupted him, _again, _and he shook his head in frustration. "Cause it says doctor on your door, Mamoru," she snapped indignantly.

"I think you mean a psychiatrist, Minako, and no, I'm not that type of doctor, though, actually-"

"Whatever! Mamoru! You're not _listening!_" she interrupted him once again, and this time the octave in her voice pierced through the room. He snapped his mouth shut and crossed his arms in irritation. There just wasn't any point. He was going to have to ride this out.

"_As I was saying,_ I woke up in a room that's not mine, and no, it's not because I fell asleep somewhere else, because this room is actually mine," she said, her words flying out of her lips a mile a minute. "Because, I apparently have this life, except it's _not mine, _and I realize that in this fucked up life I don't even have the power to turn into a Senshi - which, I'm not even going to explain to you, because really? I don't want you to think I'm totally crazy," she babbled, her hands moving in large dramatic gestures as she spoke. "Because you know what, Mamoru? Everybody thinks I'm crazy. Every. Last. One. Of. Them," she said, and this time her eyes welled up, glistening with tears of terrified frustration.

His eyes softened, and though he didn't tend to see eye-to-eye with Minako all the time, he remembered how terrifying that first nightmare had been. The confusion was unbearably overwhelming. "Minako, please, if you would just listen-" he said softly, taking another step towards her.

She stepped back, shaking her head sadly. "Please, I'm sorry. You were my last hope, and when I asked Usagi where you were, do you know what she said, Mamoru?" She whispered hoarsely, and his breath hitched in his throat because this _he did _want to know. "She said she didn't care, Mamoru. That she didn't care where you were! Do you know how messed up that is?" she said, her arms trembling as she took a deep calming breath. His heart constricted painfully, and though he'd known that the Usako of this world hated him, it still _really_ hurt to hear her say it.

Minako gulped, furiously wiped an errant tear off of her cheek, as the look in her eyes hardened with resolute fortitude. "I'm sorry, forget I said all of that," she waved her hand dismissively, "I totally just ate some bad sushi, and it's making me say weird things. I'm going to go, but just before I do, I just want you to know that I'm going to fix this. I mean I know that is tot-"

This time he interrupted her. "Minako! Damn, can you stop talking for one second?" he snapped, and it effectively quieted the blonde-haired Senshi of Venus. Her eyes were wide as she regarded him with confusion. "You're not crazy. I know this world is fucked up. I remember, too," he said and ignored her indignant gasp. "It's a nightmare, and trust me, it's not the first one," he said darkly and watched as it registered by the vast array of facial expressions that splayed out on her face.

Her eyes narrowed, her fists clenched at her sides, and she leaned forward. "You let me go on and on, and the whole time - ugh- whatever," she hissed in disgust, then crossed her arms resolutely. "Tell me everything, Mamoru," she demanded crisply, reverting to the Senshi leader he'd often glimpsed in battle.

He nodded firmly, then raked a hand through his hair. "Yeah, alright. You might want to sit down for this..."

oOo

_Twenty-three minutes._ That was the length of time it had taken for Minako to fully wrap her head around everything he'd revealed to her. It must be some kind of record. _Hell_, it had even taken _him _much longer to accept it. But not Minako. The blonde-haired, dramatic, and admittedly _slightly _clueless Senshi had barely flinched as he'd stumbled through his explanation. Now she sat perched at the edge of his desk, her legs swinging back and forth as she annoyingly sucked on a red lollipop that she'd found somewhere in one of his drawers.

"So, we're all stuck here until Usagi says she loves you?" she asked, a delicate blonde brow arched curiously.

He nodded tentatively, his brow furrowed as he watched her take in all of this information with ease. "Yes, well, she has to believe it herself, too, but that does seem to be the pattern," he murmured. She nodded, her gaze fixed absentmindedly on the wall behind him, as she twirled the lollipop stick between her thumb and forefinger.

She popped it back into her mouth for a moment, then sighed as she tilted her head to the side. "So, there's _always _one of us awake?" she prodded further, and he couldn't suppress his sigh this time.

He loosened his collared shirt, annoyed and feeling stifled, before leaning back against the door. "Yes, Minako, though, this is your first time," his tone was unnecessarily curt, but _damn_, her unrattled demeanor was starting to get on his nerves.

She frowned at his tone, her hand and the stupid lollipop, that she'd pulled back out of her mouth, froze in midair as her blue eyes focused on his face. "Don't give me that tone, Mamoru. It's obvious why _I'm _awake this time," she said, tilting her chin up proudly, a haughty look on her face as she hopped off the desk and propped a hand on her hip.

He sighed, and involuntarily rolled his eyes, _again. _"Alright, I'll bite. _Why _are _you _the one awake, Minako?" he stated with exasperation.

The blonde grinned, her white teeth slightly tinged red from the candy, "Because, dear Mamoru," she said slowly, casually tossing her hair over her shoulder. "I'm the Senshi of love! I'll have you and Usagi back in each other's arms and out of this messed up world in a quick second!" she stated confidently, snapping her fingers for dramatic effect.

"I just think we need to figure this out, you know?" she said, and he had to admit, the excitement in her voice was generating a hope he hadn't felt since he'd woken up here. "We just have to get our rabbits in a row," she said firmly, her lollipop almost slipping out of her fingers with her abrupt hand movements.

"Ducks, Minako," he corrected gently, and she shot him a reproachful glare before promptly ignoring him.

"I'll do some sleuthing, get to the bottom of this, and figure out what you did to make Usagi hate you so much - because, she totally hates you-" he frowned at her vehement statement, "then I'll come up with a plan, and you'll fall in love, _all over again. _Then Bam! We kill two cats with one stone!" her tone rose slightly with the anticipation, the Senshi of Venus fully immersed in the challenge she'd been presented with.

"Birds, Minako" he corrected again, and she huffed in irritation, a sullen scowl of irritation crossing her face.

"You know, Mamoru, your obsession with poultry is positively, _astounding," _she snapped, and her tone was so reminiscent of the one Kunzite had given him earlier that he grimaced at the thought. _Damn, _he'd forgotten to tell her about Kunzite.

"Minako - there's something else. Kunzite is here," he said slowly, his tone tentative as he furtively studied her reaction.

She froze, her eyes widening, and the pink tinge draining from her cheeks. "What?" she whispered hoarsely. That, more than anything, had managed to shock her. "What the hell do you mean, _Kunzite is here_? Like, _my _Kunzite? The _dead _love-of-my-life, Kunzite?" she blurted, and her words were taking on that hysterical edge again.

"Yes, and I've seen the other generals as well," he replied, his heart aching at the pain that he'd glimpsed in her eyes.

She shook her head, her chest rapidly rising and falling as her breathing quickened. "You're sure it's them? Not a monster or something?" she demanded fiercely, the candy all but forgotten as she clenched her hands into fists and the white lollipop stick bent unnaturally between her fingers.

He contemplated her words for a moment, considering her question, before shaking his head. "I think it's them, at least, they all seem to be drawn to you and the other Senshi," he replied, and he tried to keep his tone gentle like she was a bird that might fly away if he raised his voice an octave higher. "I don't know how it's possible, but I wanted to warn you, just in case you ran into him on the way out. He's my boss, apparently," he said wryly and was once again astounded at how quickly she came to terms with the new information he'd provided her.

Aino Minako was _a lot _of things; a bit ditzy, slightly vapid, but also fiercely protective of her princess. Right now, her princess needed her, and the loyal and fierce Senshi leader was awakened and in full force.

She nodded curtly, took a deep breath, as the uncertain shock melted off of her face, and she popped that _stupid _candy right back into her mouth. "Okay, thanks for letting me know, I think it's best if I - if I avoid him for now," she stumbled over the words, before smiling at him again.

"You should also keep your distance from Ami," she said, then without warning flew towards him, he jumped out of the way as she reached around him and clasped the door handle. She pulled the door open and glanced at him with a grimace. "That is just so gross. Usagi is a lost cause, but Ami totally has better taste than that," she said, and it took a moment for her words to completely register in his mind.

He sputtered indignantly, thoroughly insulted, but she just winked and disappeared over the threshold in a flurry of glossy blonde hair, and an annoyingly buoyant bounce in her step.

He stepped out of the office and watched her skip down the hallway with a purpose he wished he also felt.

Minako was damn irritating, but he let a small ghost of a smile curl onto his lips. She _was _so _damn annoying, _but he was happy as hell that she was the one awake with him this time.

oOo

The house was empty when he got home. The lavishly decorated rooms completely unused, and the outlines of the pristine and carefully chosen pieces of furniture, barely recognizable in the darkness. When he flicked the switch on from the genkan, the whole house lit up. The gleaming surfaces that looked like they belonged in the showroom of a home on a real estate market were bathed in blaring, bright light.

This was not the house he'd ever envisioned for himself, and his throat constricted painfully at the thought. When he was younger, lost in dreams of a princess he couldn't remember, way before Usako had lit up the dull greys of his life, he'd spent a desolate childhood being torn from one foster home after the other. It was painful to think about, but this house, the one he'd supposedly chosen with the Usako of this world, reminded him of one of the foster homes in particular.

The couple that had taken him in for the few short months, in this particular foster home, had been _relatively_ friendly, though their demeanors were severe. They must have been used to troubled children, as they'd kept their distance from him. Whatever interactions they did have had been firm with stern facial expressions.

That wasn't what made his heartache, though. He recalled that they'd had a house like this; everything perfectly in place. It had seemed cold to him, and he'd been afraid to touch anything in the perfect, practically unliveable, rooms of the ornately decorated house that he could never picture himself calling a _home_.

He remembered feeling so unbearably lonely, and it hurt to recall the vow that the solemn-faced ten-year-old version of himself had made as he'd curled under perfectly pressed, silk blankets with tears silently rolling down his face. When he grew up, his house would be small but cozy, filled with so much joy and laughter. Every piece of furniture in it would be intensely loved, just like the wife and the children he'd intended to fill it with.

He'd been on his way to doing just that with the little ball of glowing brightness that was Usagi. It didn't matter that he knew this was a nightmare. To see this perfect, cold, dark house, still and filled with a deafening silence, nearly brought him to his knees.

He swallowed, regained his composure and stepped into the house. He wondered where Usagi was and realized that he didn't even know how to contact her. He hoped Minako was successful in her quest to discover what had happened between them as he absentmindedly explored the house before ending up in the kitchen.

He was again blinded by white marble countertops and white tiled floors. The cupboards were a lighter grey, but all the damn _white _in this stupid house overpowered it. It was a cold, impersonal industrialized kitchen, that kind of reminded him of the sterile surfaces of the hospital he worked in.

He shook his head with disgust, discarded his jacket by tossing it over a black stool behind the polished kitchen island, and rolled up his sleeves. If Usako was _anything _like the beautiful, bright woman he loved, he knew that she had an adorably insatiable appetite. The memories of her pleasure filled sighs as she indulged in something savory, tugged painfully at his heartstrings. He _needed _this to be over so that he could go back to living the life he wanted with the woman he loved, who'd had _more_ than her fair share of heartache in this lifetime. The kitchen was an excellent place to start, right? By making her favorite meal?

Visions of the meals they'd shared, her blushing cheeks, and her easy smile renewed his determination to _fix_ this.

Just because he couldn't handle the silence any longer, and because he recognized the speaker set up in the kitchen, he managed to figure out how to work it, and the soft trilling chords of the radio echoed throughout the house.

It took awhile for him to gain his bearings in the kitchen, but soon he familiarized himself with everything, and he was pleased to find a well stocked, stainless steel fridge as he pulled out all of the ingredients for kimchi Okonomiyaki. It was a dish he remembered that Usagi enjoyed, and his hands deftly mixed the ingredients as he heated up the griddle.

There was something soothing about cooking, mixing and chopping. He was good with his hands, and soon he became lost in his thoughts as he moved automatically, instinctively putting the dish together from memory. He was almost done, the rich smells of his cooking wafting around the room, as he pulled a wine glass from the cupboard when he heard her speak.

"Mamoru?" he whipped around to face her, and his breath hitched at the sight of her poised in the kitchen doorway, her posture stiff and her expression incredulous as she peered up at him.

Damn, she was a sight for sore eyes. Still wearing the white sundress, bared sun-kissed shoulders, with her silky blonde hair flowing loosely around them now. He noted that her hair was shorter than he'd initially guessed when she'd had it in a braid this morning, but it was still long, the locks tumbling down her back in glimmering waves of gold.

He smiled tentatively, and her eyes narrowed in confusion. "Hey, are you hungry? I didn't know what time you'd be home, but it looks like you got here just in time to enjoy it hot," he said, his tone hopeful, his fingers flexing around the stem of the wine glass as they itched to reach out to her. He wanted to run his hands through her hair, take her into his arms and kiss that pained expression off her face.

She didn't say anything at first, her eyes regarding him in thinly-veiled confusion, before darkening with suspicion. "What are you even doing here?" she demanded, her lips pressed together tightly.

His heart sank. There had to be _something _he could do. They were still married, weren't they? She couldn't truly hate him… _could she?_

He fought the urge to visibly gulp and smiled shakily with a shrug. "I live here, don't I?" he said with a forced lightness that he was certain hadn't fooled her for a second. "This is still your favorite, isn't it, Usako?" he breathed softly, and he knew that it was a risk. She could very well hate this dish in this world, and he could have made a stupid mistake that would give her another reason to be angry with him.

He'd managed to surprise her, as her eyes widened slightly, and he heard her sharp intake of breath. She tilted her head, seemingly considering his question before her posture softened slightly and she stepped into the kitchen. She peered onto the stove curiously, and he caught a quick flash of pleasure in her eyes as she delicately sniffed his food. He smiled softly. _Yes! _He'd made the right decision. She was still his Usako, and his Usako couldn't turn away a good meal.

He turned towards the cupboard and took out a second wine glass, then stepped towards her. Her eyes grew as he approached, big blue saucers wide and frightened, like a small doe caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. He stopped just in front of her, cleared his throat, and shifted uncomfortably. The tension between them was so _damn _unbearable...but there was chemistry there, too. The sparks of attraction that had always been palpable between them crackled invisibly, and his mouth suddenly felt parched as his need for her overwhelmed him.

She stepped back abruptly, her hands clutching the counter behind her, as she stared up at him unblinkingly. "The wine," he breathed, as he stepped closer. His body so close, he could feel the heat radiating off of her. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as her breathing quickened. "It's behind you, Usako," he whispered hoarsely, his face inches from her. If he leaned down, just a little, it would be so easy to press his lips onto hers.

She blinked twice as his words registered, blushing furiously before breaking eye contact and swiveling around. She grasped the bottle he'd left on the counter, thrust it into his hands, and stepped around him, effectively putting some distance between them.

He was slightly disappointed, but a warm feeling of elated relief unfurled in his chest as he worked on opening the bottle and pouring them each a glass. She may _think _she hated him, but he'd felt the threads of attraction that had vibrated brightly between them. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, and that was a start.

"Why aren't you at the hospital?" she questioned, and the sharp edge of her words had softened. He handed her the glass as he reached up and pulled two china plates, _white of course, _out of the cupboard and doled out a generous portion onto her plate. His back was to her as he worked, so he had a moment to compose his facial expression.

It was very apparent to him, in the things that he'd learned today, that he spent long hours at the hospital. He would have had to, to hold the position that he currently did at his age. Was that what had killed their relationship? It was a painful thought, and it took a moment before he could respond.

He turned back towards her, plates in hand, as he attempted a nonchalant expression. "I wanted to come home and see you," he said gently and watched with horror as the tears welled in her eyes as they glistened sorrowfully.

He froze, and she must have seen the horrified expression on his face because she tried to blink them back. She graced him with a forced watery smile and lifted the glass of red wine to her lips, shakily taking a sip. She gulped back the amber liquid and smacked her lips together. It was painful to watch her visibly swallow, choking with emotion as she averted her tear-filled gaze, and angrily put down the wine glass. The movement was abrupt enough that some of the remnants sloshed over the lip of the glass.

"So," she choked, and the tone in her voice broke his _fucking _heart. "This is it, huh? Nice home cooked dinner, a red glass of wine, a casually tossed out 'Usako' before you say goodbye?" Her eyes were hardened, and filled with anger as they focused on him. _She thought he was leaving her?_

The plates rattled as he placed them back down on the counter, and his hands trembled as he reached out to her. He expected her to pull back sharply, but she didn't, though her posture was unyielding, as he took her hand in his. "What the hell are you talking about?" he demanded with conviction, "I'm not going anywhere," he said, and though she scoffed, and rolled her eyes, he knew her well enough to see the pain etched into her face. _What the fuck had happened between them? _They'd been happy in this world once. He'd seen it in the wedding picture he'd discovered in her room this morning. What had he done to make her feel this way?

He decided to take another risk, as he lifted his hand and gently cupped the side of her face, the tips of his fingers intermingling in the silky strands of her hairline and the pad of his thumb running along the length of her jaw. She inhaled sharply, eyes widening, and lips parting slightly in surprise, but she didn't pull away.

He fought the urge to lean down and kiss her and instead stared into her eyes, praying that he was conveying the sincerity he felt. "I'm not sure how things got this bad, Usako, but this is _not_ a goodbye dinner. I wanted to come home early and do something nice for my beautiful wife. Is that okay? Will you please have dinner with me?" he whispered, each word filled with conviction and a desperate need to make her understand.

He waited with bated breath for her response, and he was relieved when her stiffened posture finally relaxed, and she nodded mutely, clearly at a loss for words. He smiled and reluctantly pulled away, turning back towards the discarded plates and utensils. He handed her one and picked up the other.

It was quiet, awkward even, as they made their way into the dining room. Mamoru was pleasantly surprised by this room and was happy to see that there wasn't some pretentiously large table in the middle of a spacious area. Instead, there was a small oak table with four polished cedar wood chairs with brightly colored cushioned seats. It was nice to see a room that looked _lived _in and a piece of furniture that wasn't white.

He sat down in the closest chair, and Usagi sat across from him. They ate in silence for a couple of minutes as he surreptitiously watched her. Her hardened look quickly melted into one of bliss as she took a bite of her meal. Her eyes closed, as she moaned in delight as she chewed. The sounds drove him so crazy that his fork froze mid-air, forgotten, as he watched her.

His brow furrowed when he noticed that, though she was enjoying the meal, she was barely eating. Not like the Usako, he knew, anyway, who would have inhaled her meal so quickly that he wouldn't have had time to take even a bite. She noticed his stare, and the red blush that spread over her cheeks was so damn adorable, he thought that he might die if he didn't get her out of this damn nightmare, and into his arms, _soon_. He cleared his throat, placed his fork down, and smiled at her. He needed to spark something. He only needed her to admit that she loved him out loud and this could all be over.

Her eyes met his, and the uncertainty there was painful. "How was your day, Usako?" he questioned. This was a good place to start.

She frowned, and he thought that she might not answer until she shrugged. "It was fine, I met with the girls this morning," she responded, and he was pleased that there wasn't a hint of venom or sarcasm in her tone.

He smiled encouragingly, "How are the girls?" he questioned, because he wanted to keep the conversation going and because he desperately needed to know what was going on.

Her frown deepened, and she pushed some food around on her plate. "They're fine, Mamoru. Rei is getting married next September, Jed finally proposed," she began and glanced up at him questioningly. He bit the inside of his cheek to suppress an angry growl. He'd really hurt her, somehow, for her to feel so damn hesitant around him. He nodded, cocked his head to the side and smiled in what he hoped was an invitation for her to continue.

She thought about it for a minute, then shrugged. "Makoto got a job at that bakery, she's seeing a new guy. I've never met him, but she seems happy. Um, Minako - well, I don't know what's up with her, she was so weird today, and Ami -" his breath hitched at the mention of the blunette that he'd apparently considered leaving her for. "You see her more than I do these days," she said, and he was relieved that her words were not accusing.

"That's good, Usako," he said, and she nodded, as the conversation died and the silence became deafening again. _Damn. _He hated this. He needed to know _more_.

He leaned back in his chair, taking a sip from his glass of wine as he considered his next question. He decided to take another risk, "Did you work, today?" he asked, hoping she'd reveal something else.

This time, the risk was a bad idea, as she inhaled sharply and her face contorted into a look of surprised hurt. "Is that some kind of a sick joke?" she said hoarsely, her body trembling with anger.

He swallowed deeply, slowly lowering the wine glass onto the table, as he regarded her remorsefully. _Fuck, what had he said? _"Usako, I didn't-" he began, and she abruptly interrupted him.

"Is that what all of this is about? The food, the fucking 'I'll never leave you' bullshit? You want me to go back to work?" she hissed, and the chair scraped loudly against the hardwood floors and fell back onto the ground with a resounding crash as she stood. She braced her hands on the table, leaning forward, her eyes flashing fire and burning into him. "You were the one that kept me here, your poor broken wife, too unstable to work - too fucking _crazy _for polite society!" she snapped, but this time her voice broke as she choked on a whimpered sob.

He could only watch her with a horrified, heartbroken expression as the tears began to roll down her cheeks in torrential droves. He reached for her, his hand covering hers, but she pulled away as if he'd burned her. "Usako," he breathed, so desperate to soothe the pain emanating from her, "Why would I ever think that you're unstable?" he asked, and in retrospect, it really was a stupid thing to say, and he regretted the words the moment they left his lips.

He had just been so desperate to know what it was that he'd done without coming right out and asking her.

She gasped, her face turning into a ghastly shade of _white, _as she shook her head in anguished disbelief. "Oh God, Mamoru," she choked, unfettered agony laced into her words. "I knew you'd changed, that you didn't love me anymore, but I didn't know you were cruel," she whispered brokenly and began to sob in earnest as she buried her head in her hands.

He jumped out of his chair then, the piece of furniture crashing to the floor just like hers. He reached across the table, desperate to soothe the devastation etched into every contour of her body. His vision blurred, his heart clenched, and his throat constricted so tightly he didn't think he'd ever be able to breathe normally again.

Her head shot up, her eyes narrowed into a red-rimmed glare, as she viciously pulled away from him, "Screw you, Mamoru," she spat hatefully, before pulling away, stepping around the table and flying past him in a furious blur.

He flinched at the sound of her door slamming loudly upstairs.

He groaned, leaning against the table as he attempted to catch his breath. _What the hell had that been about? _He swore he could still feel the agony that had emanated off of Usagi still threaded into the energy in the room, even in her absence.

He obviously wouldn't be able to do this on his own, and he prayed that Minako fared better than he had.

oOo

All the coffee in the world wouldn't be able to flush out the exhaustion fogging up his brain the next morning. He'd barely slept, feeling cold and bereft in the foreign bedroom. Especially with the agonizing knowledge that Usagi was just on the other side of the wall, feeling heartbroken over something he'd done, but couldn't remember.

He hadn't been sure how to proceed when he'd woken up, bleary-eyed and tired, after a restless night of wishing he could go to her. He'd briefly entertained the idea of going into her room to talk, but when he'd placed his hand on her door handle, his heart in his throat, it was only to discover that it was locked. He'd contemplated knocking with his forehead pressed against the wood and his eyes closed miserably. He couldn't, though. Not until he figured out _what the hell_ had happened between them. It was probably best if he left her alone to avoid the risk of saying something that might set her off again.

So, he'd gone to the hospital for his scheduled shift instead. It occurred to him, on his way there, that he had no idea how to contact Minako. He didn't know anything about the blonde-haired Senshi of Venus in this world. In fact, he felt like an idiot with the realization that he hadn't even thought to ask her before she'd confidently bounded out of his office the day before.

It was a risk, given Kunzites current inclinations towards him, but he fully intended to ask him how to find her. The thought made him grimace, and he pinched the bridge of his nose and clenched his eyes shut in a half-hearted attempt to ward off an oncoming migraine he could feel pulsing warningly at the back of his skull.

As it turned out, he didn't have to seek out the blonde as she was, once again, waiting for him, standing just outside of his office.

She was dressed in a form-fitting black dress, her hair pulled back with her signature red bow, as she casually leaned against the wall with a black purse clutched in the crook of her arm. An annoyed look graced her facial features, her eyes glinting with frustration, as she waited for him. Her scowl only intensified at his approach, and she stiffened, with pursed lips, as she held up an iPhone and waved it at him.

"What the hell, Mamoru?" She snapped, and he winced as the loud shrill sounding tone of her voice sent a shot of pain through his head. "I have been texting you, like, non-stop! I know we're the only ones that remember in this world, but has your brain _forgotten _how to work something as simple as a _cell phone?_" she hissed, her voice dripping with righteous indignation.

He sighed, taking a moment to pray for patience, before matching her glare. "Minako, I haven't touched a cellphone since I woke up here," he practically growled, and her eyes widened in disbelief.

"What?!" she exclaimed, pushing away from the wall and stalking towards him, absolutely horrified. "You're kidding, right? You didn't even _think _to look for your cell phone?" She shook her head, her glossy hair twisting around her shoulders with the movement.

"Are you _absolutely_ positive you managed to escape the nightmares before this one?" she demanded condescendingly. He sighed with defeat and moved around her, pulling keys from his jacket pocket to unlock his office door.

"Because you know what, Mamoru? I'm really doubting your abilities right now-" she ranted, moving closer to him as he fumbled for the correct one, and attempted to insert it into the steel slot.

"-I mean, who the hell doesn't look for their cellphone? Do you know how many _important _things I texted you?- "

It was the wrong _damn _key, and he sucked in a deep breath, inwardly reaching for the last bit of patience that he possessed to be able to manage Minako.

"-Please tell me that you did _not_ interact with Usagi last night - "

He did give her a sharp, sideways look at that comment as he finally managed to get the door open. The blonde swept past him, her hair whipping his face as she did so, and he pressed his lips together tightly as he followed her in. He did not feel like he had the mental capabilities to handle this today.

The door automatically shut behind them with an echoing click, and Minako practically bounced over to his desk, tossed her purse onto its polished surface and began to rummage through his drawers.

He considered himself a patient person, he honestly did, but he was going to lose it soon. "Minako," he said through gritted teeth, and her head snapped up curiously. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded with irritation. He needed to know what she'd discovered, and he was not in the mood for her antics.

She rolled her eyes, and then snapped the drawer shut disappointedly. "I was looking for another lollipop, _obviously_. I missed dinner _and_ breakfast with all of the sleuthing I've been doing -" she scoffed as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I thought you were going to be a doctor for kids? If you _were _a doctor for kids, there would totally be lollipops here-"

He took a deep, calming breath, fighting back the urge to shout at her. "I swear to God, Minako. I'm hanging on by a thread. _What_ did you find out?" he whispered warningly.

Minako snorted, cocked her head to the side, and arched a golden eyebrow. "You would already _know _if you had your cell phone -" she began, but he promptly interrupted her.

"Minako!"

She held her hands up defensively. "Okay! Jeez, I thought Usagi was the one that wasn't a morning person? Calm your cows, Mamoru!" She said, and he shook his head in quiet disbelief, fighting back the slightly hysterical laughter that was beginning to bubble up in his chest.

"Horses, Minako," he choked.

She rolled her eyes, _again, _and waved her hand dismissively. "Whatever!" she snapped then pulled out her phone, a slender finger deftly scrolling on the screen. "Look, do you want to hear this _or not?_ Because let me tell you, it's not good," she said darkly, and his expression instantly sobered.

His heart skipped a beat, and a nervous lump of dread settled uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach.

She looked up from her phone, the usual mischievously haughty look in her eyes replaced with sympathetic pity. "Okay, so, first of all. I had to get your number from Ami - who is seriously screwed up over you right now, _by the way,_" she said angrily, and he gritted his teeth.

"Minako. _Please_," he whispered hoarsely, and Minako pressed her lips shut, a look of contrition etched into her face.

"Right, I'm sorry. Anyways, well, ugh, here - " she said and thrust her pink-cased device towards him. "Just look," she whispered, and his hand trembled as he took the phone from her.

It was a picture of him and Usagi. They were both smiling, happily laughing at the camera, but what _really _caught his eye was that his arms were wrapped around her midsection. His hands resting on her _very _protruding stomach. His eyes widened, and he choked on the dread that bubbled up into his throat. Usagi was pregnant in this picture; _very pregnant._

His head snapped up as he clutched the phone so tightly in his hand, he thought it might bend under the pressure. His horrified gaze met her sad one. "What the hell does this mean, Minako?" he demanded hoarsely, and Minako grimaced,

The blonde sighed, tugging on the tips of her hair nervously. "It's exactly what it looks like Mamoru," she said hesitantly, and it was the first time he'd ever seen Aino Minako carefully consider her words. "So, from what I understand, based on what Rei and Mako have said, you were both happy. So very happy," her eyes glistened, and her voice lowered an octave. He shook - because he suspected now, what she was about to say and damn. He _couldn't_ handle _it_.

"Then Usagi got pregnant when you were just starting your residency, Mamoru. You guys were so excited, and Usagi was just beautiful, apparently, all glowing and _totally _in love," Minako whispered, and her voice broke slightly with emotion. He knew that she was picturing the same exact thing that he was. It was such a beautiful vision; Usagi, his warm, bright and _pregnant wife._ It felt like his heart was going to explode in his fucking chest. "There were complications, something awful that I didn't understand, and at 36 weeks Usagi gave birth to a stillborn baby girl," her voice was painfully low now. The devastation he was feeling mirrored in her expression.

He dropped her phone unceremoniously onto his desk, his palms slick with sweat as he grasped the mahogany surface, leaning forward as he desperately tried to ground himself. _This isn't real. It's just a fucking nightmare._

Minako's small hand covered his, and he lifted his head to meet her gaze. She was biting her lower lip nervously, and he realized with a start that _there was more, _and that made sense. There had to be more, because how had they gone from happily expecting a baby to hating each other?

He painfully swallowed, the tension coiled so tightly in his muscles he thought that he might snap. "Spit it out, Minako," the baritone of his voice raspy and anguished.

Minako's eyes hardened resolutely, and she nodded. "In our world, the real one, you guys would have totally leaned on each other. We're Senshi, and you guys are _soulmates, _but here… well, here you guys drifted apart. Usagi had a breakdown, and she wouldn't eat, and she cried almost all day long," she whispered, and he painfully waited for it. Oh, God. _He couldn't breathe. _"And, I know the you of this world was probably devastated too, but you didn't help her, Mamoru. You went to work, and you stayed at work all the time. Rei says that there was a point when you both couldn't stand to look at each other."

His knees buckled and it took every ounce of willpower that he had not to collapse onto the floor. How the hell could he fix that? She'd not only lost a baby, _their baby, _but he'd fucking abandoned her? Her words, the broken ones she'd said the night before, resonated painfully in his memory.

"_You were the one that kept me here, your poor broken wife, too unstable to work - too fucking crazy for polite society!"_

"Oh, God. Minako," he gasped, stepping back in horror and raking his hands through his hair. "I screwed it up. How the hell am I going to fix this? And I was going to _leave _her for Ami, Minako," he choked, his eyes filled with pleading helplessness.

Minako's shared grief-stricken look melted away, and a painfully white smile lit up her face. "Mamoru, do you think I would come here and tell you all of this awful, heart-wrenching stuff, _without _a _plan?" _She quipped excitedly, and he shook his head. How could this possibly be salvageable?

Minako scornfully tsked, and with a disgruntled huff leaned down and scooped up her phone. "Oh ye, of little faith," she muttered under her breath as her well-manicured fingers frantically swiped at something on the screen.

He was still drowning in despair when she thrust the phone towards him again. His jaw tightened, and his fingers flexed into fists as he eyed the phone like it was a venomous snake that might lash out if he touched it.

Minako exhaled loudly in irritation as she forcibly grasped his hand and slapped the phone into his palm. "For God's sake, Mamoru. Stop being ridiculous and press play," she snapped impatiently, and he scowled at her.

He shook his head to clear it, effectively gaining control of his emotions as he peered down at the screen, and nervously pressed play.

His breath hitched in his throat as Usagi popped onto the screen, she was holding the phone away from her bikini-clad body, a bright smile on her face as she lay pressed onto, what appeared to be, a white sandy beach.

"_Hi, Mina! I thought you could use this video for your vlog!" _video-Usako exclaimed excitedly, and he swallowed around the painful lump in his throat. She was so damn beautiful. "_So, I'm on my honeymoon, and this is beautiful Calypso Shores villa in Montego Bay Jamaica!" _She said, her voice laced with excitement as she pulled the phone away and panned out over a beautiful white sandy beach, and a lavish beachfront villa. She turned the camera back towards herself, and she looked breathless, sun-kissed, and everything he imagined she'd look like on their honeymoon. _"No, but for real Minako. This place is so beautiful! It's the most magical place on the entire planet, and I swear that me and Mamo-Chan will be coming back here every year! Maybe twice a year! And-" _she stopped and squealed happily, the image of the video blurring as her hand dropped.

"_Oh yeah? And who's going to pay for all of these trips to Jamaica, Usako?" _It was his voice, the deep chords of his tone teasing and tender. Usagi giggled, and though he couldn't see it, because the phone had tumbled face down into the sand, he heard her sigh and the telltale sound of them kissing. "_Turn off your phone, Usa. Let's go swimming," _video-Mamoru murmured playfully, and Usagi's face came into view again, along with his, as she held the phone up.

"_Bye Mina!" _She laughed breathlessly, "_Say bye, Mamo-chan!" _she said, and he watched as the video version of himself rolled his eyes, pulled his blonde into his arms and tenderly kissed her neck.

"_Goodbye, Mina. Don't call us!" _He said, and Usagi squealed as the phone was yanked from her hand and the video abruptly stopped.

He stood there, frozen, his lungs compressed like the wind had been knocked out of him. _That _was what he wanted with Usagi. His eyes watered and he blinked twice before looking up at Minako. What had been the fucking point of that? To show him everything he'd lost in this nightmare, and _risked _losing in the real world if he couldn't make Usagi love him again?

"What the hell was the point of that, Minako?" he demanded furiously, his hands tightening around her phone. "Are you trying to torture me?"

Minako sighed with exasperation and plucked her phone from his hand. She leaned over, grasped the leather handles of her purse, unzipped the top and reached inside. She pulled out a tan manila folder and wordlessly handed it to him.

He frowned, took it from her and tentatively pulled it open. There was a stack of papers tucked inside, but what caught his eye right away were two boarding passes to Montego Bay Jamaica.

"So, it's only for three days - because Jamaica is damn expensive, and I cleaned out my bank account for that, but it should do the trick. You guys are destined to be together, after all, and all you have to do is get her to admit she loves you," Minako whispered with conviction, as she firmly held his gaze with her own. "The rest of that stuff is all the information I could find. We text a lot, apparently, so that's everything she's ever said about you. There's an itinerary there, of your first trip, so you know what you guys did," she said, and then smiled softly. "This trip was apparently really important to her, Mamoru. So don't screw it up," Minako said, but her words lacked the intended admonishment. There was a desperation and a sadness laced into her tone that he'd never heard before.

He shook his head, eyes narrowed in confusion. _This _was her idea? "Minako," he muttered, "How the hell do you expect me to get Usagi to Jamaica? She can't even stand to be in the same room with me," he spat, his tone filled with self-loathing, as the disastrous dinner from the night beforereplayedg in his mind.

Minako furrowed her brows and chewed her bottom lip in contemplation. "Well, I can't think of _everything, _Mamoru," she snapped loftily. "She's still married to you, isn't she? She doesn't hate you as much as you think she does."

The coils serpentined around his heart loosened at Minako's words, and for the first time since he'd woken up here, he felt a sense of hope. It was overwhelming, the task that had been set before him, but he would never give up on Usagi. No matter what horrifying world they put them in. His resolve strengthened, and he nodded with determination. He would never have been able to do this without Minako. He wouldn't have even known where to start. He was eternally grateful, at that moment, for the irritating Senshi of love that had provided him with everything he needed to save his future wife.

He offered her a grateful smile. "Thank you, Minako," he said appreciatively, and Minako blushed, and shrugged with forced nonchalance.

"Well, just make sure you fix this because if you don't, you owe me a ton of money," she said and skipped around him and towards the door. He was sure that she was going to slip out as quickly as she had yesterday, but she halted suddenly, her hand poised on the door handle.

He frowned in confusion, "Minako?" he questioned, and the blonde whirled back toward him. There was a nervous look carved into the soft features of her face, and his eyes widened in astonishment as she began to wring her hands. There was a vulnerability emanating from the Senshi that he'd never seen before.

She took a deep, dramatic breath, "Okay, so, here's the thing," she blurted and shifted uncomfortably. "So, apparently in this world, I'm sort of… um… promiscuous?" she said, her voice rising just like the hairs on the back of his neck at her words.

_Fuck. _Kunzites words flashed through his mind, and his stomach churned violently, "Oh God, Minako, we didn't-" her eyes widened, and she gasped, effectively interrupting him.

"Oh my God, no!" she choked, "Gross! No!"

He exhaled a breath of relief and decided to let the 'gross' insult slide.

"No, the only reason I'm saying that is because I've been seeing Kunzite, and apparently the Minako of this world is a total bitch that totally blew him off," she spat with self-deprecation as she averted her gaze. "Anyways, if the voicemails he left me are any indication, he's still in love with me. Well, I was wondering if it would be alright, since you'll be away with Usagi _anyways, _if I could pursue him," she murmured, then gave him a sheepish smile.

He shook his head in confusion, his brows knit as he regarded her. "I'm not sure I understand what you're asking me, Minako," he questioned, and the blonde shot him an annoyed glare, a flush spreading across her cheeks.

"My number one purpose, the single most important duty that I have as Senshi leader, is to ensure that Usagi is taken care of. I promise you that I will always do that, but…" she trailed off, gathering the courage to ask what he already knew she wanted to say.

"Minako, you don't need my permission for this."

Her eyes widened, and she bit her lip and nodded curtly. "Thank you," she whispered hoarsely, "I don't know if he's actually alive, and to spend time with him, even for the few days that you're gone, well that… I just -" she swallowed, unable to finish her sentence and he offered her, what he hoped, was an encouraging smile.

"Go, Mina," he said, and it was tentative, but her lips curled into a dazzling grin.

"Good luck sweeping the princess off her hands, Romeo!" Minako exclaimed as she exuberantly swung the door open.

He rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation. "Feet, Mina!" he shouted after her, but she was a flurried tornado of love and light, and the Senshi of love was already halfway down the hall.

oOo

He spent the rest of the morning when he probably should have been seeing patients, pouring over the text messages that Minako had meticulously copied into a document and printed out for him. There was page after page of desperate, heart-wrenching pleas that Usagi had sent to her friend. Each one ripped at his heart more than the last, and he knew, without a doubt, that he _hated _the Mamoru of this world.

"_Minako, sometimes it feels like I can't breathe."_

The messages escalated, and it was painfully clear that Usagi had dealt with her grief and devastation on her own.

"_I washed my hair today, do you think he'll even notice?"_

How could he have _possibly _treated her that way? It was apparent that he'd been too busy working, slowly losing her, and it was as if he hadn't even noticed that she was pulling away from him. How could he fix the damage he'd done?

"_No, he didn't say that Minako, but you should see the way he looks at me now! I fucking hate this house."_

He hated that house too. Why hadn't he fucking _helped _her?

"_He won't even let me talk about her. If I do, he snaps at me like I'm some kind of crazed psychopath. He wants me to pretend like she never existed. I can't be like him and drown myself in work. Why do I have to forget about her? Doesn't he know that I want to talk about her? I still feel like a mom, Minako. Except I don't have a baby anymore."_

He choked on his tears when reading that message, and he tried to imagine what he might have felt like, having lost a child. He could picture himself being unable to talk about it, retreating into himself, but the way he'd treated Usagi, his beautiful, grieving wife, was _fucking _unacceptable.

_"He hates me, Mina. That's fine. I think I hate him too. Will you come over and help me move my stuff to the spare bedroom? He won't be home any time soon anyway,"_

He'd managed to wade through half of the stalk of papers before he stuffed them back into the folder with disgust; a weight in his chest and a sour taste in his mouth. He was drowning, momentarily overwhelmed with emotion.

He allowed himself a couple more minutes to wallow in the burning rage he felt for the horrible situations that they had been forced to face. His elbows perched on the pretentious desk - _that he never would have picked out himself -_ and his head buried in his hands. He took a deep cleansing breath, strengthened his resolve, and vowed that no matter _what _happened, he would not let himself lose control of his emotions.

That was the only way that he was going to win her back this time. He needed to put _her _first, and the Mamoru of this nightmare had spent enough time selfishly hoarding and internalizing his strength.

He stood abruptly, formulating a plan in his head, as he gathered the folder and his jacket, and left the office. He didn't even lock it, fully intending to banish this world from existence so that he'd never have to see it again. He'd practically fled the hospital, dodging anyone that may have tried to stop him, and made his way out into the parking lot.

He didn't spare the hospital another glance as he pulled out into Tokyo's unbearable traffic. He wanted to be a doctor, and he knew that he would someday, but it was going to be _with _Usagi by his side, happy and filled with the brightness that he remembered so well. He was done with this life.

oOo

He was dreading this more than any conversation that he'd had with Usagi; in this nightmare, the previous ones, and the real life that he was anxious to get back to. He'd agonized over it on the way 'home,' and he knew that there was only one way that he could fix this; to start bringing the light back into her eyes. He was going to have to give her a choice, no matter what the consequences were, for them and their fate in this world.

His heart was hammering against his ribcage when he stepped into the genkan, shutting the door as quietly as possible behind him. He knew that she was home the instant he stepped into the hallway. The soft chords of music drifted out into the hall, slightly muffled, the sound of low base vibrating from the small sitting room he'd only glanced at in passing the day before.

He was slow to move, tentative and nervous about seeing her, knowing what he needed to do next. He peered through the open doorway, and his breath hitched in his throat at the sight before him. She didn't notice him standing in the doorway, and so he took a moment to study her.

She was sitting on a big _white _leather sofa, that looked more expensive than comfortable, her small form huddled in the corner. She was dressed in a pale pink coloured dress that accented the rosy hue of her lips and the slight tinge that graced her cheeks. Her legs were curled beneath her, her bright eyes perusing the pages of a book that she held perched on her lap. Her blonde locks of hair were pulled up, the continuous strands were thrown into a messy bun at the top of her head, soft golden tendrils falling down her back, and wispy curls framing her heart-shaped face.

She was so _damn _beautiful, it physically hurt to look at her. His heart clenched, though, as he noted that the look in her eyes did not match the tender-hearted princess he knew so well. There was a muted grace about her now, and it was beautiful in its own way. At the same time, it haunted him.

There was none of the buoyancy that had become a staple in his Usako's personality, a brightness that she'd maintained even in the face of enemies that had tried to suck everything away from her. Beryl, Nemesis, Pharaoh 50, Nehelenia, Galaxia - she'd defeated them all one by one, and _still _she hadn't lost her shine. _No_, it had taken _him _and his casual dismissal to take the light from her and let it be replaced with a stoic version of Usagi that he never wanted to see again.

She looked up then, and her eyes narrowed in startled confusion as her gaze met his. "You're home early, _again_," she stated accusingly, her eyes filling with irritation at his intrusion.

He exhaled deeply, raking a hand through his hair, before nervously stepping into the sitting room. Even with the overwhelming white surfaces, it was cozier than he'd assumed. He didn't know if it was because of the fire that she had burning in the polished stone fireplace, or it was just her presence that lit up the space around her.

He strode towards her with purpose, determined to do this, banking everything on the fact that he did not believe she could ever truly hate him. Her eyes widened in confusion as he approached, and moved around a polished white, wooden coffee table. He sat down, perched on the edge of the table directly in front of her. They were so close, his knees brushed across her legs.

He was taking such a dangerous risk, and if she gave him the wrong answer, he didn't know what he was going to do. His throat constricted as he leant forward, his elbows pressing into his knees as he regarded her carefully, her expression puzzled and her lips parted slightly with surprise.

"Usako," he murmured softly, his eyes tender, pleading and filled with pain. "We need to talk," his voice broke, and he cleared his throat to forcibly dislodge the ball of emotion threatening to take over.

Her breath hitched, and the blood drained from her face. Tears were glistening in her eyes, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. "This is it now, isn't it, Mamoru? You're finally going to do it," she whispered brokenly, her voice trembling with defeat. He could barely stand this.

He didn't say anything for a moment, as he watched her, and her book clattered unceremoniously onto the floor as her hand flew to her lips. He took a deep breath, willing himself to have the strength he needed to say what he did next. "Usako, do you want this to be it?" he forced the words out, and they burned as they tangled up on his tongue and clawed their way through his lips. _Please, God. Let her still want me._

A single tear fell from her eye, and it quietly slid down her face until it collided with her index finger. "What- what do you mean?" she choked through her fingers, and he smiled sadly, wishing he could reach out and take her hand in his.

He clenched his fingers into fists, visibly swallowed and forced himself to meet her gaze. "I mean, you aren't happy, Usako, and I want to know if you want to end this," he asked, and his voice was strained with agony. _Please, say no._

He'd shocked her, and she didn't say anything as she stared at him with hopeless disbelief. Her expression filled with despair, and he wondered if she was having a difficult time breathing, like him. "If you want to end this, Usako, I promise you that I won't stop you. I'll give you everything you need," he said. She gasped before choking on a whimper, and just because he couldn't stand it anymore, he reached over and pulled her hands into his own. They were trembling, and he squeezed them comfortingly.

Her eyes were wide, beseeching and her lower lip quivered. "Is - is that what you want, Mamoru?" she just barely managed to choke the words out, her voice just above a silent whisper.

He exhaled softly in relief, pleased that her immediate response hadn't been to say yes. He stared into her eyes, his expression hardening with conviction. "No. I know that things have been horrible between us, Usako, but I love you," he said firmly, a desperate edge to his voice as his hands tightened around hers.

"I know that I hurt you badly, Usa," his hand trembled, and he averted his eyes, afraid to look at her; to see the look in her anguished gaze. "Usako, I'm so sorry for what I put you through… the pain you felt must have been unbearable," he heard her sharp intake of breath, and he forced himself to meet the pain in her eyes. "I'm so damn sorry, Usa. I want to be with you, I want to make this work again," he pleaded. "You loved me once, Usako. Can you do it again?" he whispered desperately.

His broken, grief-stricken princess shook as she held back her tears. "I don't know," she choked mournfully. "I want to, Mamoru. I want to try, but so much has happened. Every time I look at you, it hurts," her tone was despondent, her inflection broken and tortured as she pulled her hands out of his and buried her face in them as she crumpled forward into torrential sobs of despair.

His eyes welled with tears, and with a groan, he pulled her into his arms. Her shoulders heaved as she sobbed and her fingers curled into the front of his shirt. He let her cry as he softly stroked her hair with one hand and coiled his other arm around her waist, pulling her onto his lap.

His hand grazed her side, and he choked, devastated with the realization of how thin she'd become. So much thinner than she'd ever been. She was so small and fragile, he thought she might snap if he held her too tightly.

It was several minutes until her tears subsided, and she hiccuped, flexing her fingers in the fabric of his shirt. He regained control of his emotions, and just held her while he waited for her to ride out this wave of agony. When she finally pulled away and peered up at him from beneath wet, lacy black lashes, he noted that there was a sad crestfallen look in her eyes.

"I'm not sure if we can make it through this, Mamoru. Maybe…" she trailed off, averting her red-rimmed gaze and biting her lip nervously.

His eyes hardened, his lips pressed into a grim, but determined, line as he tightened his arms around her. "Can we try? Will, you at least give me a chance, Usako?" he pleaded, and he knew, by the look of pity in her eyes, that she didn't think it would matter. "Please, give me a second chance to make this right, Usagi. I want to make this better for you," the imploring desperation laced painfully into his words. "Will you let me try, one more time, to be the man that I used to be? The one that deserved to be with someone like you? " he whispered, and her eyes widened fearfully as she scrutinized his face.

He waited with bated breath as several moments passed, as she considered it, still poised in his arms. He felt like weeping with relief when she leaned forward, with a sigh, pressed her forehead onto his collarbone. He could feel her hot breath through the fabric of his shirt, and he swallowed painfully and clenched his eyes shut as he readjusted her on his lap and tucked her head beneath his chin.

"Okay, Mamoru," she murmured softly. "We can try," she said quietly, and he released, what felt like, the first full breath since he'd arrived here.

oOo

He'd never been to Jamaica before, _not that he could remember anyway_, so the 16-hour flight had been unexpected. It probably would have been more bearable if he could have spent that time actually talking to Usagi, but they definitely were not at that point yet. The tension between them was so palpable even the stewardess had visibly winced, and then made a concerted effort to avoid their row for the rest of the trip.

Usagi was quiet, reserved, and she rarely smiled. When he tried to spark a conversation, it was like pulling teeth, and not only did she respond with crisp one-word answers, but her eyes filled with tears every time she looked at him. He hadn't been able to touch her since the afternoon that he'd pulled her shuddering body into his arms, and every time he tried, she pulled away, flinching as if he'd burned her.

What alarmed him even more, was the fact that she rarely ate. She'd turned down all three meals that they'd offered her on the flight, except for a piece of bread that she absentmindedly nibbled on, while staring forlornly out the plane window. He was a doctor in this world, wasn't he?! How the hell had he missed the dark circles under her eyes, the way that her clothes hung off her too-thin form? Not to mention that Usagi had _always _possessed an insatiable appetite. His little ball of sunshine ate with the same gusto that she afforded everything and person in her life, and now she was _starving _herself? She was his wife, but they may as well have been strangers. It was the most painful sixteen hours that he'd ever spent with his Usako.

His confidence in his ability to have Usagi fall back in love with him was admittedly shaken when their plane landed on the tarmac and pulled into the airport in sunny Jamaica. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure that this had been a good idea to begin with, given that no matter how long he'd poured over Minako's itinerary of their first trip, he didn't actually _remember _it, and there was a huge possibility that he was going to say something to fuck this up.

He inwardly cursed Minako as they made their way off of the plane and into the Sangster international airport in Montego Bay. It was bustling with tourists from all over the world as they made their way through customs and into the main lobby area to retrieve their luggage. It was modestly sized, well maintained with windows from floor to ceiling, showing off the lush tropical greenery outside and allowing the sun's rays to pierce through the glass, brightly lighting up the whole airport.

The energy in the atmosphere was laid back, filled with excited anticipation that was only prevalent in vacationers that were finally unwinding from the lives that they had left behind them. It was infectious, and he wanted so very badly to share this with Usagi.

It wasn't going to happen, though. They hadn't said a word to each other since landing, and he could feel the frustration bubbling up in his chest as he surreptitiously watched her in his peripheral view.

The crowd thickened when they reached the line of shops and money exchange locations, and his heart skipped a beat when he realized that he'd lost her in the crowd. His eyes narrowed as he worriedly scanned their surroundings, his gaze perusing the various array of people bustling happily along when he caught sight of her blonde hair amongst the sea of people.

He just made it to her in time to watch her trip and stumble into the arms of a short blonde haired person that he recognized immediately. "Oh hey, are you okay there, kitten?" Haruka practically purred, a golden brow arched as she helped steady Usagi.

Usagi blushed, as she quickly stepped back just as he reached her and lightly grasped her elbow. "Are you alright?" he murmured softly, and Usagi glanced up at him with an embarrassed expression, and nodded mutely.

He glanced back at Haruka, whose lips were curled into a sardonic smile, her eyes shining with curiosity as she glanced between them. "Thank you," he said and wondered if he was supposed to know the Senshi of Uranus in this world, though, by the look on her face, he doubted that he did.

Haruka shrugged nonchalantly and offered them a grin, "No worries, a lot of people pushing their way through here. Is this your first time in Jamaica?" Haruka questioned, and it had been directed towards Usagi. He did not miss the hard glint in her eyes when she'd glanced at him.

He gritted his teeth, knowing what it must look like. Usagi, exhausted, slightly gaunt and not able to look him in the eye. It appeared that the Senshi, even in this world, felt the innate urge to protect her.

Usagi smiled, though it was more of a crestfallen smile, tinged with sadness. "No, we've been here before, for our Honeymoon," Usagi said softly, and Haruka appeared to consider her words carefully.

"I see. I'm here with my wife as well. Where are you guys staying?" she prodded as she glanced back at him.

He met her cool gaze. "Calypso Shores," he responded evenly, his tone firm but reassuring. He would have liked to have had the Senshi as an ally here. Haruka scrutinized his expression for only a moment longer, apparently coming to some kind of decision before offering them both a bright smile.

"Well, what do you know? We're staying at a villa not far from there! My name is Tenou Haruka," she said, offering her hand to Usagi that tentatively took it.

"Chiba Usagi," Usagi said, some warmth creeping into her voice as she offered the short haired blonde a genuine smile. It was the first time that she'd said her name. _Chiba. _He couldn't help the pleasure that curled up inside of him at the sound of his name on her lips. "This is my husband, Chiba Mamoru," she said and gestured towards him.

Haruka's eyes met his again, and the warmth that had been reserved for Usagi faded, and it didn't quite reach her smile. "It's nice to meet you. Are you here long?" She questioned, tilting her head to the side curiously.

He wasn't sure what it was that the Senshi thought that she could see in him, but she was wrong. He returned her smirk with a forced smile of his own. "We leave on Thursday," he said. He wished he could wrap his arm around Usakos waist and pull her close so that Haruka could see that he was, _in fact_, a husband who loved his wife.

Haruka's smile faltered, and she shrugged. "That's too bad, such a short trip," she quipped then glanced down at a silver wristwatch with a brown leather band wrapped around her wrist. "I have to go, but maybe we'll see you on the beach," she said hopefully. "Take care of yourself, kitten," she said as she twirled around, buried her hands in her pockets and strode away.

He frowned after her, wondering what role she played in this nightmare when he felt Usako place a hand on his arm. He glanced down at her. Her eyes were wide, filled with inquisitive confusion.

"Are you angry, Mamoru? I'm sure he didn't mean anything when he called me kitten," she whispered hesitantly, and it took a moment before he understood what she meant.

He covered her hand with his own and smiled down at her tenderly. "I know, Usako. Are you ready to find our things and go?" He asked, inhaling sharply as her eyes remained locked onto his.

He felt something spark between them, and his hope of salvaging this quickly began to blossom once again. Until her eyes welled with tears, _again, _and she abruptly pulled away from him.

She wrapped her arms around her midsection, blinked back the tears and nodded curtly. "Yes, I'm ready," her words were laced with a 'let's get this over with' tone that ripped at his heart, and he nodded wordlessly and began to wade his way through the crowd.

He wasn't sure what he was going to do. Why couldn't she _look _at him? He could feel the frustration begin to build in the pit of his stomach, and he glanced at her from the corner of his eye, furtively studying her profile.

Her face looked like it was made of stone. A stoic expression carved into her delicate features as she focused on walking ahead of her.

It was difficult to see her like this, and he knew that he would do anything to see her smile.

oOo

The Calypso Shores Resort was absolutely breathtaking. It was a small villa set on a sandy bluff directly on the beach. The villa in question was a pink-bricked building, with lavish pink tiled awnings held up by white marble beams. Quaint cobblestone pathways and lush tropical greenery framed the establishment, whose walls were filled with windows and delicate french doors. Just off to the side was a brightly lit pool with crystal blue water, though he wasn't sure why there was a need for a pool when the beach was literally only 6 steps away from the edge of the property.

It was open, lavish, and he could picture Usagi splayed out on one of the cushioned, floral patterned chairs, bathing in the warmth of the sun. The villa was meant for a maximum of four couples. Luckily, they were the only ones that had booked these particular days so they would have the house to themselves.

Though he wasn't really sure if _that_ mattered as, other than a small gasp of delight when they'd first stepped into the brightly lit main room, Usagi had barely looked at him. The look on her face was still set in stone, hardened and tinged with a miserable sadness that he couldn't erase, no matter what he said.

The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; lush, earthy tones on all the upholstery, with brown tiled floors and brightly painted yellow walls. He let Usagi take the lead and, hoisting the straps of their luggage more securely on this shoulder, he followed her to their designated bedroom.

It was bright, airy, with a four-poster king size bed pressed along the wall. There was a gossamer material draped over it with richly embroidered blankets and pillows in earthy tropical colours on its plush surface. The back wall was made up purely of glass-paned windows, and intricately hand painted french doors that opened directly onto the beach. The sounds of the ocean intermingled with the muffled chords of upbeat music from a distant party wafted into the room, along with the warm breeze that ruffled the sheer white curtains and the wispy curls that framed Usagi's face.

He stood frozen in place as she slowly moved towards the doors, a nostalgic smile on her lips and a hint of sorrow in the blue pools of her eyes. She placed a delicate hand on the door frame, slender fingers curling around the wood as she peered outside, enshrouded like an angel by the bright sunlight.

It couldn't continue on like this, and he thought maybe this setting, the brightly lit paradise of their contrived past, may have been the last place to bring her. She was clearly haunted by the memories of what they had been.

He dropped the bags onto the floor, and cleared his throat, feeling like it was tightened with defeat. It wasn't too late. They could go home, and he could try something new. She turned towards him, her eyes furrowed curiously.

The words he wanted to say tangled up on his tongue, and he must have looked like an idiot, standing there with his mouth open. He sighed with frustration and raked his hand through his hair. He wanted this to be on her terms, but damn, he was at a loss. He didn't know what to do. His Usako had always been an open book, her emotions always so easy to read. But here, he had no idea what she was thinking.

She took two tentative steps towards him before stopping and wringing her hands nervously. "What is it?" she whispered quietly.

He frowned, carefully considering his words, and trying desperately to suppress his own frustration from seeping into his voice. "Usako, I'm sorry -" he choked the words out, "I'm not sure why I thought this would be a good idea. I didn't mean to make things even worse," he said miserably, and her head snapped up, eyes wide as she met his gaze with a look of surprise on her face.

"What do you mean?" she said, startled, a panicked edge sharpening each word she spoke.

An involuntary bark of disbelieving laughter bubbled up in his throat, and he shook his head with contrition. "God, Usagi. What do you mean, what do I mean?" he snapped hoarsely, his eyes hardening with self-loathing. "You're miserable. Every single moment since we left that godforsaken house has been strained and downright painful," he spat, and he couldn't help the escalating anger now. What had been done to her was awful, but it had been done by a Mamoru that was not him. This was a nightmare that had been purposefully crafted to torture them. He was tired of feeling guilty for something that he would _never in a million years _do to her.

She inhaled sharply, her eyes darkening indignantly as her fingers clenched into tiny fists. "What? I'm not miserable," she retorted hotly, shaking her head in adamant denial.

He inhaled deeply, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Yes, you are. I know that you hate me, but you said that we could try -" he began but was interrupted as she firmly interjected.

"Mamoru, I don't hate you," she snapped angrily. He couldn't help it after that. The helplessness, the anger and the frustration that had been simmering hotly just beneath the surface poured out into his words.

"It's obvious that you hate me, Usako. I don't even _blame _you for it. I know what you've been through, but damn. How can I make this better if you won't even look at me?" he pleaded, the desperate anger interlaced into his tone.

Her breathing quickened, a crimson tinge spreading across her cheeks. "Stop it! I don't hate you!" she spat, her eyes welling with her own tears of indignant outrage. "That's not what it is, Mamoru!" she exclaimed, her voice rising into a shout.

He strode towards her, grasping her shoulders, his eyes burning with pain. "What is it then, Usako?" he demanded. "Why can't you even look at me?"

There was a fire that flashed in her eyes, a fury that he was relieved to see because _anything_ was better than the broken devastation that seemed to be a permanent fixture in the Usako of this world. "I don't know," she hissed furiously, and he shook his head, tightening his hold on her. His fingers pressing into the skin of her bared arms.

"What is it, Usagi?" he said raspily, brokenly, refusing to accept her answer. She either hated him, or there was something else, and until they talked about it, there wasn't any way for them to heal.

She glared at him, the tears that she'd been forcibly blinking back _all day _rolling hotly down her cheeks. "I don't know," she choked stubbornly.

There was a crack in her voice though, and it was a sign that she wasn't being truthful. _She did know. _"Usagi, what _is it?" _he demanded again, and this time he'd managed to break through her hardened shell.

She let out a growl of frustration and forcibly pushed him away. She wasn't as strong as she was in their world, but he released her and took a step back. "I'm _afraid, _Mamoru!" she practically screamed, her grief etched into every part of her; the tears on her face, the stance with which she held herself, and the way she visibly trembled, her rage just a front for her _fear._ "I'm afraid that _this," _she gestured towards him furiously, "will end the minute I turn away. Do you have any idea how long I've lived with a cold, unfeeling, _asshole? _How many nights I prayed that the Mamoru that I fell in love would come back?" she cried, and he froze, horrified as he watched her trembling with rage. Her face was red with fury and her chest heaving with the emotion expanding within it.

He reached out towards her, desperately wishing he could pull her into his arms, but she slapped his hands away. "Usako-" he began, but she promptly interrupted him.

"No! You want me to _talk, _Mamoru? Well, now I'm talking!" she exclaimed, and he snapped his mouth shut, swallowing down the words of comfort that had lodged themselves into his throat. This was better than the silent sadness. _It had to be._ "What am I supposed to think, after all of the arguments, the fights and then the stone cold silence?" she choked on the tears that accompanied her heated exclamation. "Doesn't it make sense that I would feel terrified that I would blink, and the person I wished was still here, might disappear again? I don't know which version of you is going to wake up tomorrow, Mamoru! My cold, hateful husband? Or the one that actually _looks _at me again, that is all of a sudden doing weird things…" she trailed off, her anger dissipating with the words she was letting go, her shoulders slumped in defeat and her eyes downcast.

He'd fucking _broken _her. The Mamoru of this world had effectively trampled out everything he loved about her. He choked then on a sob that he hadn't realized had been bubbling up inside of him, and his vision blurred with tears that he tried to unsuccessfully blink back. _Damn, _he'd promised himself that he wouldn't let his emotions consume him; that he would only cater to her needs. _Selfish, he was so selfish. _He turned away, trying to regain his composure, his chest heaving with the rattling breaths he was so desperately trying to control.

He jumped, suddenly, as her delicately small hands cradled his face and forcibly pulled his gaze towards hers. The pads of her thumbs wiped away the tears he hadn't realized he'd shed, and there was a look of awe shining through the tear-filled sapphire irises of her eyes.

"Mamo-chan," she whispered. "Are you crying?"

He blinked several times until his vision cleared. "I'm sorry, Usako," he murmured miserably, embarrassed that he'd let all of this emotion, the task of overcoming her hatred, overwhelm him.

She released his face, and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her head into his chest. It shocked him, and his hand shook as he tenderly interlaced his fingers in the golden strands of her hair at the back of her head.

"It's okay, Mamo-chan," she whispered, her words muffled in his shirt. "I promise that I'll try," her breath was warm, and her body was trembling in his arms.

He exhaled shakily, overcome by the feelings coursing through him as he wrapped his arms around her. He dropped his head and pressed his cheek against the silky hair at the top of her head. He inhaled deeply, relieved that despite all of the changes in Usagi, she still smelled of vanilla and lavender.

_It was going to be alright. _She _did _love him, even if she was confused about it right now. They had overcome everything else. They could overcome this nightmarish river of grief that should never have been hers to bear in the first place, too.

"Thank you, Usako," he murmured. "That's all I'm asking." It was strange, but it was the first time since they'd arrived that he could feel the warmth of the hot Jamaican sun.

oOo

The tension between them had lessened considerably if not all together. They'd come to a silent agreement. Usagi was tentatively warming up to him, though it was slow, hesitant, and her gaze was still filled with apprehension. They'd agreed to deviate from their original itinerary, choosing instead to spend their first day on the beach and in the villa.

They'd been treading lightly, their conversation slightly shallow, avoiding anything that would delve too deeply into the strained strings of pain still twisted up in Usagi's heart. It was difficult to watch her like this. Everything bright about her, while still there, was muted and tentative, like she was afraid that she would say something that would change him back into what he'd been before. These changes in her, the ones that the traumatic experiences of this life had created, were agonizing to see. He hated that he needed to wade through all of this pain and torment until he could remind her who she was again so that this could be over for her.

It had been an _especially _painful moment when Usagi had emerged from the villa, dressed in a bikini. She was breathtaking, like an ethereal vision in pale pink fabric, her hair twisted into a long golden braid that hung down her back again. _But she was so thin_. His heart ached at the sight of his strong Senshi, _warrior princess, _looking so frail and fragile. He'd needed to avert his gaze for a moment, swallowing painfully. The little shine in her eyes dulled sadly; she'd noticed.

He prepared a large lunch with the pre-ordered ingredients that he'd requested were stocked in the sleek stainless steel fridge in the kitchen. He noted that she made a concerted effort to eat more after that. He was pleased, though he could see that she was forcing down every bite he silently handed her as he cooked while she watched him, perched quietly on the beautiful marble countertop.

When he was finished cooking, rather than move to the dining room, he hopped up beside her on the counter and they ate in silence. It was a comfortable silence though, and that was a start.

When they finished eating, she was visibly perkier as she jumped off of the counter and began to rummage through the cupboards in search of something. He watched her curiously, sliding off the counter himself and leaning back on his elbows. She was like a little bikini-clad whirlwind, her face set into a look of annoyed concentration.

She let out a huff of frustration, and he raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Usako, what are you looking for?" he asked lovingly, and she graced him with a narrowed gaze over her shoulder.

"I'm looking for the wine, Mamoru. There should be wine," she said sternly, though he was delighted to see a small smile tentatively curling up on her lips.

He chuckled, "What makes you think there's wine?" he teased. He'd seen the bottles stacked in the bottom cupboard, one of the ones she'd missed, as he was cooking.

She stopped, her eyes widening in mock horror. "No wine? Well, that's going to be a problem," she deadpanned. He raised a questioning eyebrow, his expression deadly serious as their gazes locked.

She broke first, her eyes sparkling with a glint of laughter, and her smile widening into the brightest expression he'd seen on her face thus far. He inhaled sharply and wondered what would happen if he kissed her right now.

He pushed away from the counter, moving towards her, and his heart sank as her smile faded and the look of apprehension reappeared in her eyes. She wasn't ready yet. So he offered her a tender smile instead, reached around her and opened the cupboard with the racks of neatly stacked wine bottles.

The look she gave him was soft and grateful as she whirled around, bent down and carefully inspected the different varieties, pulling out a white riesling and putting it into the fridge.

She turned back towards him with a sheepish smile. "To chill, for later, around the fire," she whispered and cleared her throat nervously. "Would it be alright if I had just a couple of glasses by the fire, Mamoru?" she questioned, and he frowned in confusion.

This was apparently another thing that he did not know, and it was etched in the nervous contours in her face. "Usako, this is a vacation, right? Why would you need my permission to have wine?" he questioned tenderly, taking another step closer to her. She looked so forlorn, so small and sad, he wished she would let him hold her.

Her brow furrowed, and she blinked with surprised confusion. "Well, I just know that you don't like it when I drink," she murmured, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

He racked his brain, trying to remember if there was something written about this in Minako's carefully written notes, but he was coming up blank. He sighed, and she glanced up at him suspiciously.

He needed to think of something to say, and quickly. "Usako…" he began, "This is a clean slate, right?" Technically, it was. _For him anyway. _"You don't need my permission. I'm not your keeper. If you want to have a drink on the beach in Jamaica, you can have a drink," he said in what he hoped was a tenderly reassuring tone.

Her eyes widened, big blue orbs filled with tears, and a vulnerability that inwardly made him curse. _Damn_, had he said the wrong thing again? He instinctively reached out towards her, his mouth open and ready to apologize for what, he wasn't sure, but she quickly stepped around him.

She furiously wiped the lone tear off her cheek, "I'm sorry, It's just that the last time I drank was the last time we fought, and …" she trailed off, swallowed, before offering him a slow, timid smile. "Mamo-chan, do you want to go swimming?" she questioned, and the tone of her voice was so reminiscent of what he was used to that he could not speak. He nodded mutely, and she reached over, grasped his wrist and tugged him outside into the sun.

oOo

They spent the rest of the afternoon on the beach. They swam, lounged about lazily on the white sand, and basked in the sun's warm rays. He mostly spent his time watching Usagi, though, and sent a silent apology for having ever doubted Minako's wisdom.

She was thriving, flourishing happily as she had in the video that Minako had shown him of their honeymoon. It was the most he'd seen her smile, though none of them had been directed towards him yet, and her involuntary moans of delight as she stretched and lolled, soaking up the rays, were driving him _insane._

As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, leaving red and orange-hued streaks across the sky and Usagi shivered from the lack of warmth, they made their way back to the villa. He was delighted when Usagi grasped his hand, timidly interlacing her fingers with his, a red blush spreading adorably across her cheeks.

He loathed for this night to end, as was Usagi apparently, as she pulled the wine from the fridge and two glasses from the cupboard. She placed them tentatively on the counter and peered at him shyly from beneath lacy lashes with a silent question shining in her eyes. He didn't need to answer her out loud, he nodded, smiled tenderly, and turned to grab a coarse beach blanket that he'd discovered earlier folded up neatly in the sitting room.

He wasn't a very outdoorsy person, so it took him a few tries to light a fire in a designated fire pit strategically placed on the beach beneath the stars. He cursed with irritation as the smoke got into his eyes, but it had been worth it when he was rewarded by a soft giggle from his blonde, who sat, her legs curled beneath her on the blanket, as she poured them both a glass of wine.

When he was satisfied that it wouldn't go out on its own, and the flames began to lick greedily at the wood that had already been neatly stacked in place, he sat down beside her. She wordlessly handed him a glass, and he took it from her, swallowing deeply as his fingers grazed hers.

They settled into a comfortable silence, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the crackling of the fire soothing as he surreptitiously watched her. She seemed content as she peered into the flames, leaning back on her elbows, periodically taking a sip of wine. He wanted to say something, but it felt nice between them. He'd made leaps and bounds in progress today, and he was loathed to ruin it by saying something that might hurt her again.

He became lost in thought for several minutes, thinking of all of the things he would need to do when they escaped this nightmare. He was just beginning to silently devise a plan to stop this from happening again when she spoke.

"So, what's up with the cell phone thing, Mamoru?" she murmured gently. He turned his head, glancing at her with narrowed, confused eyes.

He had no idea what she was talking about, and there was a twinge of panic in the pit of his stomach. "I'm not sure what you mean, Usako," he murmured, and he did not need to fake the bewilderment in his tone.

She rolled her eyes, taking another big gulp of wine before sitting up and crossing her legs. "You're always on your cell phone. Even when we're sitting across from each other in the same room, you're on your phone," she said, and his heart began to race at the hard edge that had re-entered her voice at the memory. "I thought it was glued to your hand at one point!" she exclaimed, then frowned. "I haven't seen you on it in days. Did you even bring it with you?" she asked with uncertainty.

Her words echoed Minako's indignant ones, and he shrugged and grinned widely. "I needed a break from the technology, Usako," he said quietly, and she gave him a suspicious look, and finished her glass of wine.

She refilled it, the bottle clinking against the lip of her glass as she poured, and nibbled her lip in contemplation. "What about the whole Godforsaken thing?" she demanded suddenly. There was a little slur in her words, and he knew that the wine was starting to affect her.

He grinned at her, shaking his head with confusion. Again, he had no idea what she was referring too. "Usako, you're going to have to clarify what you're talking about," he said, his tone filled with loving amusement.

She snorted, her cheeks flushed from the wine, as she twisted her body towards him. "You know what I mean… you said our house was godforsaken earlier!" she exclaimed, definitely slurring now, as she lifted the wine glass to her lips again.

He cringed guiltily as he recalled having said something along those lines, and she gasped at the look on his face. "Oh my God, Mamoru! You hate it _too_?" she exclaimed excitedly, and he didn't say anything, but followed her lead and sat up cross-legged in front of her. He smirked and shrugged nonchalantly. He did hate that house, but he was surprised to hear that she did too.

She suddenly burst into laughter, and fell over backwards, landing unceremoniously onto her back. What remained in her wine glass tipped over and seeped slowly into the sand. Her laugh was like music to his ears, no matter how ridiculous the reason. He leaned over her, smirking down into her smiling face, and shook his head in amusement.

With her body weight, the amount of food she'd consumed, and the time she'd spent in the sun, he wasn't surprised that the wine had hit her so fast. Her laughter subsided suddenly, and he inhaled sharply as something shifted in between them. Her eyes widened and filled with a subtle tenderness he hadn't seen yet, as she quietly studied his face.

His heart clenched in his chest as his gaze lovingly soaked up the sight of her as well. The firelight flickered behind them, casting a dim glow on her heart-shaped face, highlighting every beautiful feature. Her lips were parted, tendrils of hair that had escaped her braid splayed out around her, and there was _that _look. The one he remembered so well, and _Damn. _He wanted so badly to kiss her.

She smiled softly up at him, and he moved closer, his palms pressed into the grainy texture of the sand on either side of her head as he longingly stared down at her. "Hey, Mamo-chan. You know it's not fair that you can be mad at me all the time, but still be so beautiful," she slurred, giggled, and propped herself up on her elbows, bringing her face just inches from his. His breathing quickened, his eyes locked onto hers, and the sweet smell of the wine on her breath and the heat radiating from her body assaulted his senses.

He gulped, flexing his fingers in the sand to keep himself from crushing her against him. The dreamy look on her face slightly faded, and something raw and broken filled the blue pools of her eyes as they glistened brightly in the firelight. "Mamo-chan, do you still think I'm beautiful? Like you did before - before it happened?"

Her question destroyed him. It ripped at his heart. She was his fiercely beautiful warrior princess, his bright ball of sunshine, his delicately sweet little Usako. The fact that she'd ever thought, even for a fucking second, that he had believed otherwise, infuriated him.

"Usako," he choked brokenly, "Damn, Usa. Don't you know that there is nobody that is as beautiful as you?" he whispered with a resonating conviction that managed to successfully wipe that sad glistening pain from her eyes.

The intensity sizzled between them. It made his heart race, his body tighten in anticipation, and he could have lost himself in her eyes. He would have if she hadn't fallen onto her back again, her arms unable to support her as she turned her head to the side and closed her eyes with a sleepy smile.

"Hey, Mamo-chan," she murmured under her breath. "As soon as you stop spinning, you can kiss me if you want," she slurred, twisting her body onto her side, as she tucked her hands under a flushed cheek. Her lithe form splayed out beneath him.

The intensity lessened, and he sighed, then chuckled as he shook his head in amusement. She was drunk, exhausted and he needed to help her get to bed.

He sat back on his knees, leaned over and pried an arm beneath her, hoisting her up. She moaned as her head lolled onto his shoulder. He chuckled, using his other hand as leverage to pull them both to their feet.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she stumbled clumsily, but his arm tightened around her waist, and he steadied her. "Come on, Usako. Time for bed, love," he murmured, and she giggled again, the sound washing over him in warm waves like the tinkling trill of a wind chime twisting in the wind.

He stumbled only once on the way back when she pressed her lips on the crook of his neck. "'Smell nice, Mamo," she murmured against his skin, and he had to forcibly ignore the heat that pooled in the pit of his stomach at the seductive, velvety sound of her voice, and the way her fingers curled enticingly into the fabric of his shirt.

When they made it back into the bedroom, he carefully helped her lay down, and with a groan, she fell into the multitude of cushions and pillows. He tucked her beneath the covers, though it was not really needed in the heat. She sighed softly, turning onto her side, a soft smile on her lips, and it took every ounce of willpower that he possessed to turn away.

There was a pull out sofa in the sitting room, and though he was not looking forward to it, he'd fully expected to be spending the night there. He turned to leave but was stopped suddenly by Usakos hand grasping his wrist. He peered back at her, and her eyes were still closed, her face pressed into the pillow.

"Stay, Mamo-chan," she murmured sleepily, and he hesitated. "Please," she whispered, and the simple word effectively crumbled his resolve.

He crawled underneath the covers beside her, and with a contented sigh she twisted around and pressed her body against his. He swallowed past the lump of emotion in his throat, wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her close and tucked her head beneath his chin. Their legs tangled intimately together, and her hands pressed against his chest. He wondered if she could feel the way his heart was hammering against his ribcage.

She moaned contentedly again, and his hand trembled as he lifted it to stroke her hair. "Usako," he whispered, "I love you." He didn't expect an answer, as he was sure that she'd fallen asleep, which was why his heart skipped a beat when she spoke.

"I know you do, Mamo-chan. It's nice to know that you do again," the words were low, slightly inaudible, but he'd heard them. He tried to think of something to say, a response that might elicit the words he so _desperately _needed to hear, but by the time that he did. She was fast asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

oOo

He wasn't sure what woke him the next morning. It could have been the sunshine that poured in through the windows and bathed the whole room in a bright, tropical warmth. Or it might have been the warm breeze that wafted in through the partially open french doors, along with the soothing sounds of the ocean waves crashing on the shore and the trill chords of the ring-tailed pigeons flying overhead.

If he had to guess, though, it was probably the feeling of his heart expanding with relieved elation at the sight of Usagi, still, fast asleep, and plastered intimately across his chest. Most of her braid had come undone, and there was hair splayed out everywhere, golden blonde strands spread out across his body, pillows and sheets.

He smiled softly, lifted his hand and reverently ran a lock of her hair between his thumb and forefinger. It slid around his fingers like silk before billowing back onto the pillow. It felt like a perfect moment, and he basked in it for a moment more before allowing the reality of their situation to seep back into the forefront of his mind.

He frowned; this wasn't over. He was still here, despite everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. He _knew _that Usagi still loved him. The problem was that _she_ didn't know it yet. His frown deepened as he gently ran his hand down the length of her back, his fingers grazing her side, where he felt the edged contours of her ribs protruding through her skin. The sooner they were out of here, the better. This depressed, barely-eating version of Usako made his heart clench with anguish in his chest.

He didn't want to leave the bed, he wanted to pull her back into his arms and fall into a dreamless sleep, but things were still not as they should be, and he still wasn't sure what Usagi's reaction would be if she woke up and found herself in his arms. With a mournful sigh, he carefully maneuvered his body out from beneath her and gently lifted her so he could inch his way out of the bed without waking her.

She moaned, turned over onto her side, her hair twisting around her body as she buried her head in the pillow. He grinned, it didn't matter what world they threw her in, Usagi would _never _be an early riser.

He padded quietly out of the bedroom into the kitchen where he pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, and two aspirin from the bathroom where they'd already deposited their toiletries. She didn't stir as he carefully placed them on the small bamboo side table beside the bed.

He'd showered, collected the beach blanket and wine glasses from outside, and was in the middle of making breakfast by the time she emerged from the bedroom. She'd somewhat tamed her hair by pulling it back into a haphazard ponytail that was slightly lopsided. Her clothes, the jean shorts and purple t-shirt from the day before, was crumpled and she tugged at the seam of her shirt self consciously, a timid grimace on her face, and a look of worry shining from her eyes.

His hand froze, his fingers tightening around the spatula handle he'd been using to flip the crepes he was making. He was again caught off-guard by the vulnerability and the devastation that surrounded his Usako. She was afraid, though he was not sure of what. He guessed it was probably of his reaction.

He swallowed down the anger he felt for the _asshole _Mamoru of this world and instead offered her his brightest smile, hoping the love he felt for her was apparent in his eyes.

It had been effective, as the look, the one he hated, melted off her face, her stiffened shoulders relaxed and she returned his smile with a tentative one of her own. "Good morning, Mamoru," she murmured and slowly made her way into the kitchen.

He was a little disappointed by the more formal 'Mamoru,' but he was pleased by the curious look in her eyes as she sniffed at the wafting scent of the cooking food appreciatively.

He smiled tenderly, then turned back to the task at hand. "Good morning, Usako. Are you hungry?" he asked hopefully.

Her smile widened, and she nodded sheepishly, "A little," she murmured, then nibbled her lower lip nervously. "I'm really sorry about last night. I only had two glasses. I'm not sure why it hit me so fast," she apologized, her tone filled with unnecessary embarrassment and shame.

He bit the inside of his lip to suppress the self-hatred he felt at her statement. He wished he knew what the hell that was about, and he wanted to ask her what he'd done to make her feel this way. Instead, he smiled reassuringly. "I'm not really sure what you're referring to, Usako. You were adorable last night. Hopefully, you don't have a headache?" he questioned tenderly.

There was an array of emotions that crossed over her face, but he knew by the way her expression lit up, and the shine that began to glint brightly in her eyes, that he'd cracked another barrier around her. "No, actually. I feel amazing," she said, her tone filled with wonder. "Actually, Mamoru, I'm starving. Can I have two of whatever it is that you're cooking there?" she said, and his heart skipped a beat. _It was working. _He was fixing this.

He didn't say anything, simply cut off a piece still hot from the pan, speared it with a fork and handed it to her. He couldn't contain the full, stupidly excited grin on his face. "You can eat as much as you want, Usa," he replied, and she took the fork from him, hopped up onto the counter, and ate it as she watched him cook.

The remnants of the anger filled cords of tension that had still been lingering between them had wholly dissipated. Her laughter, though still a little tentative at first, came easier as did her conversation over breakfast. He made an enormous spread of crepes, fruit, jams and toast. They took it out onto the mosaic tiled patio, settled onto curved, black, iron-legged chairs around a quaint rounded bistro table with a brightly coloured stone-carved table top.

He was delighted to see her eat with the gusto he'd always been accustomed to seeing, but

the best part was that she was _actually _talking. It was so reminiscent of his unbroken Usako that his heart soared as he watched her, while quietly eating, and listened with a grin on his face. She spoke quickly, and _excitedly_ about the things going on in her life. With each passing moment, the bubbly personality that was so uniquely his Usako became more prevalent.

She stopped suddenly, blushing, as she cleared her throat nervously. "I'm sorry, Mamoru. It just feels like we haven't talked in forever, you know?" she whispered with an embarrassed giggle, tucking a tendril of hair behind her ear self-consciously. _So beautiful. _She was so _damn _beautiful.

He reached over the table, grasping her slender hand in his, "Usako, please stop apologizing for being yourself," he reassured, and she smiled gratefully.

They sat there for a moment more, basking in comfortable silence, before she spoke, "Mamoru, can we go to the sandy cove bar on the beach today, like we did last time?" She asked hopefully.

That had not been on the itinerary, so he had no idea what she was talking about, but he smiled and nodded anyway. "Of course, Usako. We can do whatever you want to do today," he reassured, and her responding grin and squeal of excitement was worth the risk of exposing his complete lack of knowledge in regards to their supposed previous experience here.

He cleaned up after breakfast, and she bounded into the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day.

He took a moment, leaning over the counter, hands clutching at the marbled edge as he took a deep and cleansing breath. _He was doing so well. _Though there was still grief layered beneath the uncharacteristically graceful Usako, she was so much more like the beautiful Senshi princess of his world. He was close to breaking them free; he knew he was. He just had to make sure he didn't ruin this.

He was so lost in thought, trying to manage the intermingling emotions of despair, terror and excited anticipation roiling furiously within him, that he didn't see Usagi come through the door until he felt the soft slender touch of her hand on his back. He jumped, startled and whirled around to face her.

He inhaled sharply, his heart racing at the sight before him. She looked beautiful, dressed in another pair of jean-shorts, a sheer pink top, with a white bikini cut top visible underneath. She was glowing, her skin sun-kissed from her sunbathing yesterday, but her hair... He didn't know why it felt so crucially important, but it was up in the beautifully familiar ogangoed tresses that he hadn't realized he'd missed so much.

He was so focused on her hairstyle, he almost missed the look in her eyes. They were shining with a tender sympathy that had him inhaling deeply, startled with surprise.

Her hand cupped his cheek, and she smiled softly. "Mamoru," she whispered, and he was admittedly confused, though her touch sent tingles rolling down his spine. He lifted his hand to cover hers as he leaned blissfully into her palm. "I'm sorry. I forget that this has been difficult for you, too," she whispered, her tone soft, and so _damn_ enticing.

She'd misunderstood his pain, and he almost choked on the emotion pouring over him from the look in her eyes. It was tender, _forgiving,_ and the energy between them crackled so vibrantly he couldn't breathe. This was the moment - _it had to be-_ he could feel it between them.

His fingers curled around her hand, and he turned his head, pressing a gentle kiss onto the inside of her wrist. She sucked in a breath of air, stepping closer, lips parted with shock as she peered up at him. "Usako," he whispered, his voice hoarse with his need for her. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and his eyes fixed on the rosy-hued, heart-shaped form of her lips. _Her terms. _This had to be on _her _terms. "Can I kiss you?" he asked, and it was a plea that came from a place of desperation.

She hesitated for only a moment, before slowly nodding, as if in a trance. It was all he needed, and he cradled her face in his hands, his fingers interlaced in the wispy strands of hair that curled along her temples. He bent his head towards hers, his eyes locked onto the hooded sapphire blue orbs, glossy and filled with her equally pressing need for him. He stopped for just a moment, his lips nearly touching hers, as her breath came out in short puffs of warmth that fanned along his cheeks.

"Mamo-chan," she pleaded, her voice ragged, and he crushed his lips onto hers. He lost himself in their kiss. It was passionate, and filled with such raw intensity that all of the emotions that coursed through the brokenhearted Usako of this world poured into their kiss as her lips molded perfectly to his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and he groaned as she pressed her body against the hard expanse of his chest.

He swept his tongue over her bottom lip, coaxing them open and she whimpered as she granted him access. His hands, almost of their own accord, moved from her flushed face down the slender curve of her neck, grazing her shoulders before settling onto her hips. Their lips remained interlocked as his hands continued, trailing down her soft supple curves, as they reached the back of her thighs. In one swift movement, he hoisted her up, perched her on the edge of the counter and moved in between her legs. She gasped into his mouth, as her parted knees pressed into his hips and her ankles interlocked behind him.

He groaned, and they broke apart breathlessly so that he could tenderly trail hot kisses along the length of her jaw, nipping at the sensitive skin of her neck. Their breathing was laboured, and his hands stopped his roaming ministrations on the curves of her body as he pressed his lips onto her bared shoulder, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply.

She _had_ to be able to feel this. The emotion, the passion, the _love. _"Usako," he murmured against her skin. "I love you," he whispered.

Her body stiffened suddenly, and the energy that had burned so tangibly between them just _seconds _before, almost instantaneously cooled. He lifted his head, startled by the change, and his eyes narrowed in confusion as he met her gaze.

Her face crumpled into a look of devastation and uncertainty. _Fuck. _He pulled away and took a step back, her legs uncurling from around him.

"Mamoru," she murmured, and he couldn't _handle _this. How could he have misread her so badly? "I … I promised you that I'd try, and I am, and I know there's something there, but -" her eyes welled with tears again as she averted her gaze. Those damned tears of aching desperation that he'd brought back again by saying something too _soon_. _She wasn't ready_.

He sighed sadly, stepped back in front of her, cradled her face in his hands, and tilted her head up towards his. The tears had escaped, sliding down her cheeks, and he gently wiped them away with the pads of his thumbs. "It's alright. Please don't cry, Usako," he whispered reassuringly. "It's okay. We can take this at your pace," he said softly and placed a tender kiss on her forehead before stepping back and offering her his hand. It was hard, and his heart was aching, but he forced a smile onto his lips.

The look in her eyes was unsure, but she took his hand, and he pulled her off the counter. "So, the Sandy cove bar?" he said lightly, and she nodded mutely. Effectively silenced and broken again. The bright Usako that had re-emerged for a short while had buried beneath her hardened shell of sorrow. _Damn. _He was so stupid. "Okay, let's go," he said, and they made their way back out into the sun which, for some reason, felt a little colder than it had this morning.

oOo

The sandy cove beach bar was located a short ten-minute walk along the beach from the villa. He'd let her take the lead, and though it was only ten minutes, the tension, renewed from their heated embrace in the kitchen, was painfully thick in between them. He silently cursed. Despite all of the progress they'd made, she'd still shut him out again. What had the Mamoru of this world _done _to her?

As they approached, the crowd of people, all clad in varying states of dress or more accurately, _undress, _ thickened, as did the upbeat, low base music that was being played by a live band on a raised, makeshift wooden platform. The bar itself was not very big; a large, thatched roof awning of tiki grass that covered a bamboo built counter that was gaudily decorated with bright signs, and faded surfboards. A string of multi-coloured patio lanterns draped across the wooden posts.

There were weather faded chairs and tables, mismatched and spread out along the beach in a haphazard manner. Some of them lopsided, and stuck randomly in the sand. The atmosphere of the crowd here was definitely laid back, the soothing cords of conversation, laughter and music all intermingling in the warm tropical heat around them; drinks being poured, and passed around freely.

Usagi's face lit up brightly, and he smiled tenderly, his fingers flexing with his need to pull her hand into his. He ignored the urge, though, and furtively watched her as they approached. Her body had already begun to sway to the music in anticipation. His blonde-haired beauty had always been partial to dancing.

She stepped ahead of him, eyes bright with excitement, though she still tugged at her shirt self-consciously. She jumped when he lightly touched her elbow, the brightness fading a little as she turned towards him with a nervous smile.

He could do this again. _Baby steps._ He returned her smile with a tentative one of his own. "Do you want to dance?" he murmured, and she tilted her head, a look of surprise crossing her face.

She blinked, confused, before giggling softly and shaking her head. "Mamoru, you don't dance," she said, her voice tinged with disbelieving amusement.

He grimaced. _That had apparently followed him in this world too. _"Well, what about a drink then, Usako?" he questioned, his tone suitably contrite, and her demeanour softened slightly, though there was still that damn uncertainty layered beneath her forced smile.

She shifted, nibbled her lower lip, and glanced towards the bar indecisively. "Would that be okay?" She whispered, and a cord of pained fury twisted up inside of him. He hated to see her so insecure. She'd lost their child, and he'd had the nerve to give her a hard time about drinking? _Asshole._

He controlled his momentary flash of anger at himself and smiled at her reassuringly instead. "Usako, what did I say? Clean slate," he stated firmly. "Why don't you find somewhere to sit, and I'll get us something to drink… do you want something sweet?" he had no idea what the Usako of this world enjoyed, apart from the white wine she'd had last night. He did not want to assume anything.

She shrugged, "Same thing as last time? Mojitos? I remember that they made killer mojitos here!" She exclaimed excitedly. He nodded, and just because the flushed, excited look on her face was so mesmerizing, and because he was still reeling from the painful distance that she'd reestablished between them, he leaned forward and placed a chaste, tender kiss on her forehead. Her skin warm beneath his lips.

He'd managed to surprise her, but he swivelled around and strode away before she could say anything. He pushed through a giggling group of bikini-clad woman that seemed to be congregating near the bar snapping drunken selfies and made his way to the bartender whose skin was honey-coloured and offered him a bright, white smile.

He waited only a couple of minutes for Usagi's Mojito and his whiskey sour. With a smile and a fair-sized tip, he twisted around, drinks in hand, intending to make his way back through the crowd to find Usagi. One of the selfie girls chose that moment to drunkenly step back, colliding directly into him.

He involuntarily let loose a shocked expletive as the drinks tipped in his hands, the liquid pouring down the platinum blonde haired girl's body. It rolled down the red-tinged sunburnt skin of her shoulder and soaked the front of what little clothing she was wearing.

She whirled around, her hazel eyes burning with indignant fury. "Oh my god! What the hell?" she snapped, and he opened his mouth, fully prepared to apologize, (_even though it was technically her fault) _when her eyes widened slightly. Her pupils dilated, and her angry stance softened instantly at the sight of him.

His eyes narrowed in confusion as a slow, seductive smile spread across red-stained lips. She took a step towards him and placed a hand on his chest. "Oh, you know what? Don't even worry about it!" she purred, then giggled with a toss of her head. He winced at the shrill sound, and quickly took a step away from her.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Sorry about that," he murmured apologetically, turning to go back to the bar for another round of drinks when her fingers curled around his wrist. He stopped and turned back towards her. _What the hell was happening, right now?_

"Oh my gosh, it's not even a problem. But you can always buy me a drink if you want to properly apologize," the woman stated, her tone dripping with a forced innocence that made him uncomfortable. _Seriously uncomfortable. _His face reddened, and the words tangled up on his tongue. Like an inexperienced idiot, he was completely flustered. How could he politely decline, and extract his wrist from her python-like grip that was currently making the hairs rise on the back of his neck? And not in a good way.

"Um," he choked out, and he glanced up with rising panic. Defeat all the monsters of his world? _Simple. _Wade through one hell-ridden nightmare after the next to save the love of his life and their friends? _Piece of cake. _Politely reject an overtly flirty woman that was _not _Usagi? Well, _that _was complete anxiety-ridden terror.

He coughed uncomfortably, attempting to extract his arm from her grasp, but she held on tightly with a determined glint in her eyes. "Oh, come on, handsome," she purred, running a finger along the length of his arm. "Don't pretend like you're not even interested," she scoffed dismissively.

Damn, she made him uncomfortable, sickeningly so, and he had to fight the urge to forcibly push her away from him. He looked up, and his eye caught Usagi's who stood behind the crowd of girls, watching their interaction. _Thank God_. Surely his wife would save him? He sent her a pleading look, and she responded with a mischievous smile that he _did not_ understand. It spread across her lips sweetly as she skipped over to them.

Usagi stopped beside the blonde, whose hair was gaudy looking compared to the natural deep gold of Usagi's hair, and cleared her throat. The platinum-haired seductress glanced towards Usagi, curiosity glinting from the brown hues of her eyes.

Usagi offered her a bright smile. "Hi! I see you've met my friend here. Did he give you the pickup line yet?" She said brightly, and his frown deepened in confusion. _Friend? _What the hell?

The platinum turned fully towards Usagi and shook her head in confusion. "No, why? Does he have a pickup line?" she giggled, glancing back at him with warm eyes that inwardly made him cringe.

Usagi laughed, "Oh, totally. He adores blondes!" she exclaimed, then leaned over and whispered _loudly, _"He's a doctor, you know. A total catch, if you ask me," her tone was filled with conspiratory glee, and he sputtered, entirely at a loss for words. Then, she glanced over at him with a playful gleam in her eyes. Was she _teasing _him? He sighed with exasperation. _What a brat._

The woman's eyes widened and glistened hungrily, almost predatory, and she turned back towards him, blinking with excitement. "Oh! You're a doctor! That must be such a tough job," she said, and he raised an eyebrow, glancing at Usagi whose eyes were twinkling with mirth, as she took a step back to see what he would do. She was _barely _suppressing her laughter.

He turned his full attention to the woman, opened his mouth, then shut it soundlessly at a complete loss for words. He was going to tell her that he was married, to the laughing blonde beside her _no less, _when Usagi spoke again.

"Oh, it is. Unfortunately, he's not a very _good _doctor," she said remorsefully. He frowned, puzzled and thoroughly bewildered by her words. What the hell was she up to?

The blonde tilted her head to the side, brow furrowed and lips puckered with confusion. "Oh? How come?" she questioned, and he opened his mouth to respond, but Usagi interrupted him..._again_.

"Oh, that's just because of all the lawsuits," she said matter of factly, and the blonde's frown deepened, along with his own. Where was she going with this?

"Lawsuits?" The blonde parroted stupidly, and Usagi shook her head sadly.

She stepped towards them again and offered the girl a pitying smile. "Yeah, I mean it's not a big deal, but when he's conducting surgery on married men, and they're sedated, he totally steals their wedding rings and puts them on. Just for fun," she said, and her tone was serious, convincing, and the look on her face so _damn _innocent that he burst into laughter.

The girl's eyes were narrowed first in confusion as she tried to wrap her head around what Usagi had said. Then they burned with indignant fury as she took in his laughter, and her eyes glanced at his hand that did, in fact, have a wedding ring on it. Usagi stepped beside him and grasped his hand possessively, as she offered the woman a challenging glare.

The blonde sputtered, her face reddening with humiliation before she swivelled around, tossed her hair over her shoulder and stalked away.

He glanced over at Usagi, with a raised eyebrow and an amused smirk. "You could have just told her we were married," he said, but there was no admonishment in his tone, only a barely contained laughter as he had _actually_ thoroughly enjoyed her silly tactics.

Usagi chuckled and shrugged. "Where is the fun in that?" she exclaimed. "Besides, it should have been obvious, even to _her, _how uneasy she was making you," she said, and he felt the barrier that had been rebuilt this morning melt away again. This time he vowed that he wouldn't mess it up. _Her terms. _It had to be on _her _terms. "So, drinks?" she said excitedly. He nodded, and pulled her back towards the bar.

He noted that she did not pull her hand out of his as he ordered another round from the bartender. He snuck a sideways glance at her as they waited, and she looked utterly relaxed, her face flushed, her body swaying to the music as her gaze took in everything around her with fervent exhilaration. This was the Usako he remembered, and when her eyes met his, and her grin widened, his heart soared.

oOo

The next hour passed in a blur, both of them feeling warm, light-headed and giddy from the effects of the alcohol and the sweltering Jamaican sun. He'd forgotten, for a moment, how social Usagi was; a brightly coloured butterfly flitting from one group to the next.

She laughed, twirled and joked with the intermingling crowds of people that had all come here from different parts of the world. He'd never possessed the ability to warmly socialize like his blonde-haired princess. So he smiled and followed not far behind as he allowed her to blossom and thrive doing what she was so damn good at. She brought people together. She always had and she always would.

He was more than content to step back, watch her while making sure her drink was refilled and posing for the occasional picture that she dragged him into. She was having such a good time, a flushed flurry of brightness, that he _almost _never wanted this moment to end.

They'd just gone for a swim and Usagi, whose buzz had worn off, invigorated by the coolness of the crystal clear water, contentedly pulled him down onto the sand. He sat beside her, and she promptly plopped her head into his lap with a blissful sigh. He smiled down at her, his fingers tentatively grazing her cheek as he tucked a damp tendril behind her ear.

Her eyes were closed, but a soft smile splayed onto her lips. He wanted to kiss her. More than anything he wanted to pull her up, wrap his arms around her body and press his lips onto hers. He gulped as the vision of her bikini-clad body straddling his lap as he passionately kissed her, caused his heart to skip a beat. He promptly, with difficulty, ignored the enticing urge and leaned back onto his elbows with a groan instead.

She sat up and leaned over him with a knowing smile on her lips. "Too much to drink, Mamo-chan?" she murmured. He couldn't tell her what the _real _reason for his involuntary groan was, so he grinned and shrugged nonchalantly instead. She giggled and opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by the deep baritones of a voice he would recognize anywhere.

"Well, fancy seeing you here, kitten," he glanced up, and Usagi twisted her body, a hand shielding her eyes from the sun as she peered up into Haruka's smirking face.

Usagi's face lit up with a warm smile. "Oh! Haruka!" she exclaimed with surprise. "It's so nice to see you again," she said with genuine pleasure.

Haruka responded with a mirthful grin. "I see that Jamaica agrees with you," the outer Senshi said enthusiastically before her intensely keen eyes fell onto him. Her smile dulled slightly, and she offered him a nod. "Mamoru, nice to see that you're both enjoying your vacation," she said cordially, and he responded with a curt nod and a sardonic smile of his own.

"Haruka, are you coming?" the soft, lilting tones of the Senshi of Neptune washed over him, as the slender woman gracefully moved towards them, stopping beside Haruka. Her glossy green hair was unbound and rippled around her like the elemental waves she could control. Her eyes were soft and bright as Haruka curled a slender arm around her waist. Usako blinked up at them in awe. He did have to admit that there was a powerful aura that was vibrating around the couple, even in this nightmare.

Haruku chuckled as she leaned over and tenderly placed a chaste kiss on Michiru's temple. "Sorry. I'm coming. I got distracted," she murmured then turned back towards them. "This is the little kitten I told you about, from the airport," Haruka said, and Michiru's eyes fell onto Usagi, a softly comforting look filling her eyes.

"Oh! Hello, how lovely to meet you," she said, her voice a perpetual baritone of softness. "My name is Tenou Michiru," she said sweetly, and Usagi stumbled slightly as she pulled herself to her feet.

He followed suit, frowning as he noticed the pink tinge of embarrassment that washed over her face. "It's very lovely to meet you, too. My name is Chiba Usagi, and this is my husband, Chiba Mamoru," she murmured, and he realized with a start, that Usagi was feeling insecure.

He didn't know if it was because of the clear intimacy that emanated between the couple or the naturally graceful manner with which Michiru held herself, but either way, it tugged at his heart. He instinctively stepped beside her, gently clasping Usagi's hand in his own to dispel her unnecessary feelings of inadequacy. Usagi squeezed his hand and offered him a grateful smile in return.

Michiru's genuine smile deepened, and she tilted her head, "Hey, we're just about to play a game of beach volleyball with some people we just met over there," Michiru exclaimed, her eyes brightening with an idea. "It just so happens that our team is short two players, why don't you guys join us?" Michiru asked, every syllable she uttered friendly and filled with a welcoming warmth that was inviting.

A perplexed look crossed Usagi's face, and she grimaced. "Um, well, I'm not very athletic," Usagi's tone was laced with nervous uncertainty. "I'd hate for you to lose because of me," she said sheepishly.

Michiru laughed softly, waving a hand, dismissing Usagi's concerns. "Oh, don't even worry about that, Usagi!" She said eagerly. "This is just for fun!" She exclaimed, promptly pulling away from Haruka, grasping Usagi's hand and tugging her down the beach towards the net that had been set up for the game.

He grinned, as he watched the pair hook arms. Usagi's laughter at something Michiru had whispered drifted behind them. His smile faded as he glanced at Haruka, and they both began to follow.

Haruka gave him a hard smile, her eyes deadly serious. "Michiru is very tender-hearted, she can heal all types of creatures. She's especially good at taking care of broken-hearted, stray kittens," she said softly, and the warning was not lost on Mamoru. He'd understood the double meaning in Haruka's words, and his suspicions from earlier at the airport were confirmed.

He glanced back at Usagi sadly. Her sorrow was so palpable, it didn't surprise him that Haruka had assumed the worst. In fact, it pleased him to know that his compassionate princess could elicit so much loyalty in her Senshi, even in a contrived nightmare that had been crafted so that Haruka should have no idea who Usagi was.

He gave the blonde-haired girl a gentle, appreciative smile. "I have no doubt about that. Compassion is an admirable quality, especially towards the broken-hearted," he said cryptically.

Haruka considered him for a moment with a contemplative frown. She seemed to come to some kind of conclusion as she nodded curtly, and her stance softened. "Hope you're good at volleyball, Chiba. Despite what Michiru says, I really don't like to lose," the blonde said amicably, before jogging ahead of him and grasping Michiru's waist, lifting the Senshi off the ground playfully.

Michiru squealed in surprise, and Usagi giggled with amusement. He grinned, then sped up until he caught up to Usagi. She automatically took his hand and peered up at him nervously.

"Mamo-chan," she whispered. "I'm terrible at sports," she said with a grimace, and he chuckled warmly, released her hand and wrapped an arm around her waist. She didn't protest, so he tucked her closer to his side as they walked.

"Usako," he murmured tenderly. "Don't worry. I'll _always _have your back," he said, hoping to convey the true meaning behind the words. She'd understood; her brow furrowed into a small frown, and she stared ahead, lost in thought, as they followed Michiru and Haruka.

oOo

She truly _was _terrible at sports. She'd fallen more than once, uncoordinated and unsteady. He winced as she slid painfully across the sand, missing the ball once again. At first, he could see the tears of frustration welling in her eyes. But when Haruka had said that Michiru could heal the broken-hearted, she hadn't been kidding.

Michiru had laughed lightly, dismissing every fall and every miss with a warm smile that instantly put his beautiful, sensitive wife at ease. Soon, Usagi was laughing with the others, and it wasn't long before both teams were smiling gently at the adorably clumsy girl that everyone instinctively wanted to protect.

They were having fun, that was until the other team was joined by a new player. Unfortunately, it was the platinum-blonde haired girl from earlier, and she was not in a forgiving mood. She also happened to be very good at beach volleyball. It was becoming painfully obvious that the platinum blonde, whose name was Kaori, had one purpose; to thoroughly humiliate Usagi. It didn't matter how often he attempted to intercede on Usagi's behalf, Kaori directed every powerful spike towards her.

She'd just delivered a particularly powerful blow, that he hadn't been able to catch in time, and that had knocked Usagi to the ground. Tears of horrified defeat welled in the sapphire blue pools of her eyes as he held his hand out to help her up.

Kaori sneered pettily. "Well that's what you get for letting a weakling play," she sniffed disdainfully. "I mean, there's nothing to her! Look at her! She's rail thin! Get the girl a sandwich or something," Kaori roared, _definitely_ loud enough so that Usagi heard it.

His blood began to boil with fury as he wrapped his arm around Usagi, who trembled with devastation in his arms. He gritted his teeth and wondered if anyone would stop him from throttling her. Usagi, whose shoulders were slumped with defeat, visibly swallowed back her tears. "Maybe I should sit the rest of this one out," she murmured apologetically.

He was infuriated as he peered down at his broken-hearted wife who was, once again, drowning in her sorrow. He opened his mouth to say something, to help her get through this but snapped it shut as he realized he was at a loss for words. He didn't know what to do about this. _Would it be better if she stopped playing?_

He was carefully considering what to say to her when Haruka placed a firm hand on his arm.

He glanced over at the Senshi, whose gaze was burning just as hotly as his, but there was wisdom glinting from her eyes that made him frown. "You know, Usagi, you could sit this one out, it might be easier," he inhaled sharply at her words, and Usagi's face fell with understanding disappointment. "But we'll probably win if you and Mamoru work together," she said, her eyes piercing into him.

His eyes widened with the epiphany. _Damn_, Haruka was right. _So what if Usagi wasn't athletically inclined?_ She'd been the moon Senshi in his world. She was a powerful warrior; defender of justice and love, and every time they'd worked together, they'd defeated whatever monster had crossed their path.

He nodded curtly at Haruka, who grinned and stepped back into place. He gently squeezed Usagi's side. "Usako," he whispered, and she glanced up at him curiously. Her lips pressed into a firm, miserable line, and her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't want you to stop playing," he said with conviction. She opened her mouth to protest, but he interrupted her. "You can do this. Listen, Kaori is purposefully spiking the ball on your right because you keep missing it there. Just concentrate on your right, Usa, and I'll catch everything else," he said firmly.

She shook her head in frustration, "Mamo-chan, I can't do it. She's right. I'm too weak to get it over the net," she exclaimed miserably.

He leant down, his lips nearly pressed to her ear. "Usako, you're the strongest woman that I know. You can do this, and if you _can't, _I'll be here to help you," he said, and his voice broke slightly with emotion because this was about so much more than a volleyball game.

A moment passed, as Usagi considered his words, and she blinked back her tears. Her eyes filled with awe, wonder and appreciation. Then they hardened into a look of determination that filled him with pride.

"Oh my God, are we playing, or _what_?" Kaori snarled, and his gaze fell onto the blonde. The menacing glare on his face effectively silenced her.

Usagi squeezed his hand and moved out of his arms. "Yeah, let's play," she snapped, giving him a resolute nod.

The other team served, and the game began anew. It wasn't easy at first, and she still stumbled, her footing unsteady, but she never gave up. He made sure to support her as much as possible from all sides and soon they hit their groove. It was quiet between all of them, the only sounds was that of exertion as they kept volleying the ball back and forth. The energy was electric, the tension palpable as the others stepped back and let Usagi take the lead. It was as if they could sense how important this was for both of them.

Kaori was merciless, as was the rest of her team that could sense the challenge sizzling around them. Usagi started figuring out her flow, and she was able to set the ball up perfectly for him so that he could spike it to the other team. They'd gained traction and caught up with them, promptly evening out their scores.

It was the game point this time, and Kaori's snarling expression twisted up a somewhat pretty face into something ugly, and unattractive. "You're going to lose," she hissed through the net as they waited for Michiru to set up her serve. "I can't imagine what your husband sees in you; weak, and pathetic." He clenched his fists with fury at her venomously whispered words, and he took a step forward, intent on setting the bitch straight when Usagi spoke.

"You'll see how weak I am when you're staring up at me from your back after I spike this ball into your face," she said with conviction, her spine stiffened and her legs locked with determination. It was a tall order, but he _was _going to make it happen.

Michiru served the ball, and he could feel the air shifting around them. It was one of those moments that the anticipation and energy crackled so plainly, that you could just _feel _the oncoming victory. He saw his opportunity when the ball soared towards him, perfectly volleyed for him to set it up for Usagi. His heart raced furiously, the blood pounding in his ears as he expertly hit the ball towards her.

"Usako, go now!" he shouted, his tone firm and demanding.

Usagi nodded, leaned down and then leapt into the air. He'd seen that look on her face several times during their battles together. With every last ounce of strength she possessed, she hit the ball, her wrist smashing into the white synthetic leather so fiercely that it twisted, turned and whistled as it sliced through the air and deftly smashed into Kaori's face, sending her sprawling onto her back.

Their team cheered, all of them whooping and shouting with excitement, but his eyes were only on Usagi. She whirled towards him, her gaze filled with wonder. With an excited cry of elation, she flew into his arms, and he laughed as he hoisted her small form against him. She hopped up, and his hands grasped the back of her thighs as they wrapped around his waist, her arms curling around his neck.

She peered down at him, her face flushed with excitement her eyes filled with adrenaline and joy. "Mamo-chan! I did it!" she exclaimed, the emotion interlaced so painfully in her words that his throat constricted tightly.

"Yes, Usako," he whispered hoarsely. "I knew you could."

She blinked, her breathing hitched in her throat as the adrenaline melted away and her eyes filled with a different kind of need that perfectly mirrored his own.

"Hey, lovebirds," Haruka teased. Usagi blinked, promptly broke eye contact with him, and turned her head towards the blonde. The intensity of the moment dissipated, and she blushed prettily, as he released her and her body tantalizingly slid down the length of him before her feet hit the sand. She went to pull away, but he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back to his side.

Haruka chuckled. "There's a lobster shack just down the beach. It's cute, and the food is good. Do you want to join us for dinner?" she asked, her tone bright and inviting.

Usagi peered up at him questioningly, and he shrugged. "It's up to you, Usa," he said tenderly, and she graced him with a dazzling smile.

She turned back to Haruka with a vigorous nod. "Yes," she exclaimed. "I would like that very much," she said eagerly.

Haruka laughed and gestured them forward, "Alright then, let's go!" she stated, and he smiled down at his little Usako, interlacing his fingers in hers as they followed. They were so lost in each other, that they didn't even glance back at Kaori who was moaning miserably, clutching her face, sprawled on her back behind them.

oOo

He'd never been to a lobster shack before, and it was precisely that. An open-faced wooden hut that opened up onto a makeshift wooden dais. It was brightly coloured, exotic designs painstakingly painted on every wooden plank. It was surrounded by palm trees that had emerged from the sand, curling haphazardly around the structure, fairy lights strung across them.

The low base of foreign music thrummed through the atmosphere, mingling with the low murmur of conversation from the other patrons and the sizzling sound of something roasting on a wooden stove.

As a doctor, he would have been inclined to move onto more sanitary options. But as Usagi's husband, he was delighted to see the way her face lit up with excitement over the prospect of eating there with her new friends and, unbeknownst to her, loyal Senshi.

Haruka pulled Michiru towards the server behind the counter, who, with a heavily accented voice and a brilliant smile, gladly took their order.

He did have to admit that the food looked delicious, and when they settled onto yellowed, wooden benches, around a round wooden table, he was delighted when Usagi instantly dug into her food. Moaning with pleasure, eyes closed as she savoured her first bite. He silently decided not to eat a single morsel so that he could give her his meal as well.

Haruka also regarded Usagi with an amused grin, "I told you, kitten. Doesn't look like much, but it's the very best lobster in Jamaica," she stated with conviction, then shared a soft, intimate smile with Michiru.

Usagi nodded, murmuring her ascent around a mouthful of food. He chuckled, and she swallowed, smiling guiltily with a blush spreading prettily on her cheeks.

"I didn't realize how hungry I was!" she exclaimed. "It feels like I haven't eaten in ages!" she said with a giggle. He knew that it was a joke, that she was saying it lightly, but it was so close to the truth that his expression involuntarily sobered.

She'd noticed, and her smile faded as she averted her gaze, her eyes pointedly focused on her plate. She looked forlorn and small again, so as casually as he could manage, he scooted closer to her, and wrapped an arm around her waist, turning his gaze back onto the couple that watched them with curious expressions on their faces.

He changed the subject quickly, and the conversation turned to lighter topics. The tension slowly melted away, especially as they replayed Usagi's winning moment during the volleyball game. She visibly perked up, her eyes bright, face flushed with pride, as she listened to Haruka's detailed account of Kaori being crushed, quite comically, under the weight of the ball.

The sun began to dip below the horizon, a canvas of brightly coloured oranges and reds becoming a breathtaking backdrop to the perfect scenery. The lights flickered on, the music turned up louder, as the crowd thickened around them.

Michiru's eyes were just as bright as Usa's as she scanned their surroundings, her hand firmly intertwined with Haruka's on the table. "It's so beautiful here, I almost don't want to go home," Michiru sighed softly, but then peered up at Haruka, whose eyes were filled with tenderness. "I miss Hotaru, though," she said gently.

He frowned at the mention of the Senshi of Saturn, and Michiru turned smiling eyes onto Usagi. "Hotaru is our daughter. She just turned one three weeks ago. Would you like to see a picture?" Michiru asked eagerly, as she sat up slightly, and pulled a cell phone from her pocket.

His heart began to race as Usagi stiffened beside him. He frowned as he studied her face, and though she'd tensed, there was a genuine smile on her lips. "Of course," she whispered lightly, though he couldn't help but notice that it was forced. He did not know if Usagi had interacted with any children after what had happened to her, and he clenched his jaw tightly, preparing himself for anything.

Michiru swiped through several photos on her phone and stopped on one. It lit up brightly in the darkness, and it was a picture of a cherub-cheeked, smiling, black-haired girl sitting in Haruka's lap. Usagi took the phone, smiling, though he noted that it did not quite reach her eyes.

She lifted her eyes to Michiru's expectant gaze. "She's beautiful, Michiru," Usagi murmured softly, her voice sincere but tinged with sadness. His fingers clenched into fists beneath the table and his breathing quickened as his throat constricted painfully. She should never have had to bear this pain on her own. He, _or the Mamoru of this world_, should have been there to help her.

He should have known that it was coming. This was a fucking nightmare, after all, and every single thing in this damn place had clearly been crafted to lull Usagi into a sense of complacency just so that it would hurt that much more when they tortured her. Still, he could not stop the unintentionally painful words that spilled from Michiru's lips.

Michiru leaned forward, her expression gentle, "Do you have children? You have that new, happy mom, vibe about you, Usagi," she said innocently. He knew that she'd meant it as a compliment. The sweet, tender-hearted Michiru of this world would never have intentionally hurt Usagi. It didn't matter though, and the look of devastation that fell with anguished intensity onto her face ripped at his heart.

Her eyes widened, full saucers of pain and _terror, _as she opened her mouth to respond, but not a sound came out.

It was like time was moving in slow motion, and damn, she was going to fall apart right here at the table. It was apparent that she was at a loss for words. She was so used to facing this by herself. He couldn't let her do this alone anymore, but he didn't know what the _right _thing to say was. It was at that moment that the text messages Minako had printed for him flashed through his head, and one in particular burned into the forefront of his mind.

"_He won't even let me talk about her. If I do, he snaps at me like I'm some kind of crazed psychopath. He wants me to pretend like she never existed. I can't be like him and drown myself in work. Why do I have to forget about her? Doesn't he know that I want to talk about her? I still feel like a mom, Minako. Except I don't have a baby anymore."_

Usagi had always dealt with her grief differently than he had. She was such a bright, beautifully compassionate soul. It only made sense that she would want to remember the beautiful baby that she'd held, but had never truly met. That she would want to speak about the unconditional love that she'd felt for her daughter, and the unbearable pain she'd experienced with her devastating loss. She _needed _that, and he hadn't fucking allowed it.

He knew that this life wasn't real. That this was a nightmare. But damn, _it fucking hurt. _And his eyes welled with tears that he quickly blinked back. It was time that he did the right thing by the beautifully broken, and haunted woman that was his _wife._

What felt like hours, had only been mere seconds since Michiru's question, and he cleared his throat and forced a smile on his face. "We had a daughter, as well," he said gently. Usagi audibly gasped beside him, and Michiru's face fell in remorse as she noted the _tense _that he'd used. "She was beautiful, small, and perfect," he whispered, then turned his gaze to Usagi who was staring at him in complete and utter shock. "Just like her mother," he said it with conviction and sincerity. Usagi trembled, and he reached over and took her hand in his.

She didn't pull away from him, _which he took as a good sign_, and he turned back to Michiru and Haruka who were both staring at them with varying expressions of heartfelt sympathy. "That's probably why you get that vibe from her, Michiru. Usako is still a new mom. Our daughter just isn't with us anymore," his voice shook slightly with the intensity of the emotion coursing through him and threading thickly through the air between them.

Michiru's delicate hand covered her mouth, and she shook her head with contrition. "Oh, Mamoru, Usagi," she murmured. "I'm _so _sorry," she whispered brokenly.

He opened his mouth to respond, to tell her that it wasn't her fault, but Usagi spoke first. "I'm not," she whispered hoarsely. "Sorry that she was born, that is," she said, and he carefully studied her expression. The tears that had glistened in her eyes moments before were rolling down her cheeks now, but there was a watery smile gracing her lips. "She _was _perfect. We had a hard time deciding on a name, but Mamo-chan-" she took a deep cleansing breath, and he gave her an encouraging smile. She squeezed his hand tightly. "Mamo-chan said during our first ultrasound that he was hoping that she would be like a little version of me. It was a bit of a joke, but we called her Chibi-Usa, and the name just stuck," she said softly, her tone quiet and gentle. He shuddered at her words, blinking, bleary-eyed. _Oh God… Chibi-Usa. _It was the first time he connected the pink-haired girl that was his _actual _daughter, with the one that they'd lost here, and it was like he'd been punched in the stomach.

Michiru and Haruka remained silent as Usagi continued to speak. Their eyes were filled with a gentle understanding, and a sweet tenderness that he would never have been able to manage under the circumstances. He felt like _he _was drowning in despair, suddenly. And he inwardly cursed. What the hell was wrong with him?

The conversation had progressed onto a different topic, and he hadn't even noticed. It was only when Usagi pressed herself against his side on the bench, a slight arm curling around his waist that he glanced down at her.

She peered up at him, and there was a raw vulnerability in her gaze that he hadn't seen before, laced gently with a look of relief and understanding. She smiled tenderly, and he exhaled deeply, the bright blues of her eyes successfully grounding him.

She turned back towards the couple with a genuinely bright smile, "This has been lovely, and I am so glad to have met you, but I think it's time that we head back now," she said softly, and he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. _Something was different. _"We do have a long flight tomorrow," she said apologetically while she released him and stood.

Michiru and Haruka stood as well, their hands clasped, looks of genuine disappointment on their faces. "It was so wonderful to meet you, Usagi. It was truly a delight," Michiru said warmly, as she pulled Usagi into her arms for a quick embrace. "You have my number now, darling. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call," she whispered, placed a soft kiss on Usagi's cheek and stepped back into Haruka's embrace. "It was so wonderful to meet you as well, Mamoru. I do hope that we meet again," Michiru murmured, her eyes soft as she peered down at him.

"Take care, Kitten," Haruka quipped, then turned to him with a sardonic smirk on her lips. "You take care of her now, Chiba," she said, and all he could do was nod mutely. The words were there, but they tangled up on his tongue, and he couldn't manage to say a single thing. What the _fuck _was wrong with him? Why was he suddenly overwhelmed?

The couple offered them one last wave, swivelled around without looking back, and disappeared into the darkness along the beach. He was still staring after their retreating figures when he felt Usagi's lips brush against his temple and her hand firmly grasp his.

He turned towards her, and there was a dazzling smile on her lips. "Mamo-chan, it's okay," she whispered and tenderly swept a tuft of hair off of his forehead. "Let's go home now," she said. He knew that she meant the villa, but the word 'home' snapped him out of his anguished daze, and he promptly swung his legs over the bench and stood beside her.

She peered up at him from beneath long, silky lashes that fanned the tops of reddened cheeks as she blinked. She was flushed, elated and, _damn,_ she was beautiful. Without thinking he lifted his hand to cup her cheek, her skin so soft against his palm. He inhaled sharply, a heat curling with anticipation around him as she pressed her cheek longingly into his hand.

His heart began to race as she lifted a delicate hand to cover his, her eyelids fluttering shut as she turned her face so that her lips brushed tantalizingly on the inside of his palm.

He swallowed as a different kind of need pooled in the pit of his stomach. "Usako," he murmured, and the inflection held a question that she answered with a smile, as she clasped his hand and tugged him onto the beach.

It was dark, but the beach was lit up by the luminescent glow of the moon and the twinkling stars above them. They didn't speak as they walked, both lost in different thoughts that burned along the same lines. He took a moment to study her profile in the moonlight. Her golden hair glowed almost silver, enshrouded by an aura much brighter than the sad, broken girl she'd been when they'd first arrived here. There was a confidence in her gait that had been absent mere hours ago, and a soft look etched into the contours of her face and every lovely curve of her body.

When they made it back to the villa, the structure was bathed in complete darkness as they hadn't thought to turn on any of the exterior lights before leaving. It didn't matter though, and Usagi tugged him up the cobblestone pathway that led to the French patio doors that opened up to their bedroom. Her hand curled around the handle, and she pushed them open. A rush of cold air-conditioned air washed over them, cooling their heated skin as they both stepped into the house.

Usagi moved into the bedroom, and he quietly shut the door behind them. The sound of the waves crashing furiously against the shore was muted and muffled now. The silence was deafening as she whirled around to face him.

He leaned back against the door, trying to control the fast, heavy beat of his heart by slowing down his breathing. He wasn't sure what was going to happen now, but he knew that whatever happened had to be on _her _terms. He waited and silently watched her standing in the middle of the room. An array of facial expressions swept over the delicate features of her face before she visibly took a deep breath and looked up at him.

His body was burning with a heat that made his mouth go dry, and it took every ounce of willpower that he possessed not to close the gap between them and crush the soft curves of her body against the hardened contours of his.

His eyes met her heated gaze, and he swallowed around the dry lump that was lodged in his throat. "Usako," he said, his voice ragged and pleading.

She tentatively took a step towards him, her eyes burning with a searing hunger that mirrored his own before she stopped. She hesitated for only a moment before propelling herself onto the tips of her toes, curling her arms around his neck, and crushing her lips onto his. There was desperation in her kiss that scorched his skin, filled him with a heat that coiled into his muscles, hardened his body and he lost himself in a fevered fog of lust that he'd managed to keep at bay thus far.

With a guttural groan of need, he deepened their kiss, nipped at her lower lip and coaxed them open with his tongue. She whimpered into his mouth as his hands tantalizingly swept down the length of her body, warmly grazing her ribs, before settling onto her hips.

Her lips moved against his, their tongues tangled with a frenzied fervour that was tinged with a desperation and a depth of emotion that overwhelmed him. She tightened her arms around him, her fingers lacing into the hair at the nape of his neck before she pulled away, breathlessly breaking their kiss.

She didn't say a word as she stared into his eyes, their laboured breathing weaving together between them. He wondered for a moment if he'd crossed a line, if maybe she was going to ask him to stop, before she leaned over and tantalizingly kissed his jaw. Her movements were controlled and enticingly slow as she nipped and trailed tender kisses along his jawline, seductively arching her body into his as she ran her tongue over the shell of his ear.

He groaned, desire coiling in the pit of his stomach and vibrating over his skin as his need to _have _her intensified and grew with every nip and kiss she placed on his burning skin. "Mamo-chan," her voice was raspy, and velvety smooth as she whispered it into his ear.

It sent him over the edge, and he growled as he pressed his palms into the back of her thighs, and in one swift movement, hoisted her up. She barely had time to wrap her legs around his waist as he turned her body and pressed her into the glass panes of the French doors. She gasped as his lips met hers again, as he kept one hand on her thigh, as the other one deftly crept beneath the bottom seam of her shirt. His fingers splayed over her tight abdomen before sweeping up and cupping her breast. She moaned as he expertly pulled back the malleable fabric of her white bikini top, and it sprang free, fitting perfectly into the palm of his hand. She whimpered into his mouth as he kneaded, then nimbly rolled a pert nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He pushed her body more tightly against him, sweeping his other hand beneath her shirt, giving her second breast equal attention.

She ripped her mouth away from his, lost in her own wanton haze of need and threw her head back where it hit the glass pane. The moon was directly behind them, the light enshrouded and bathed her in a soft glow that was fitting. Though she might not remember it in this world, she was his moon Goddess, and he lowered his head to her neck and kissed down its slender curve, the movements worshipping her accordingly.

The sounds of desire spilling from her lips were driving him over the edge. Her body arched desperately into his, her knees pressing into his hips as she ground against him. "Please, Mamo-chan," she moaned, her tone hoarse and pleading.

He ceased his gentle ministrations on her chest, swiftly grasped her shuddering body in his arms, and carried her to the bed. He was gentle as he reverently laid her down on the richly embroidered blankets. He hesitated as he regarded her splayed beneath him, his blonde-haired warrior princess, fiercely strong as she peered up at him from beneath hooded, seductively warm eyes.

He shook with his need to have her, to be inside of her, but this wouldn't work unless it was on her terms. He needed to hear her declaration of love so that he could get them the _fuck _out of here, and he didn't want to risk another setback if somehow she regretted this in the morning. He had to be sure.

He leaned over her on the bed, his hands pressing into the mattress on either side of her head, "Usako," he whispered, and his voice shook as he spoke. "Do you want this? Is this okay?" he choked, not entirely sure what he would do if she said no at this point.

Her eyes widened at his question, then filled with a blazing heat of tenderness as her fingers curled into the front of his shirt and she forcibly pulled him down on top of her. "Mamo-chan, I want this," she responded heatedly, and that was all he needed to hear.

He crushed his lips onto hers with feverish intensity as his knee pressed in between her legs, gently parting them. Their movements quickened as he grasped the bottom seam of her shirt, and she leaned forward as he tugged it over her head. He was certain that he heard a tearing sound as he ripped the bikini top off of her body. She gasped as he lowered his head, pulled a perfect pebble into his mouth, expertly nipping and swirling his tongue around it.

She moaned and mewled as her fingers laced into his hair, and his hands slid tantalizingly over her abdomen to the clasp of her jean shorts. It only took a moment to unbutton and unzip them, and she wiggled her hips, helping him as he shimmied both her shorts and the bathing suit bottoms down her legs before discarding them onto the floor.

He pulled away from her to bask in the beauty of her exposed, naked body for a moment, and his gaze swept over every beautiful curve with awe and adoration. "Usako," he choked, "You're so beautiful," he whispered, and she smiled alluringly as she sat up and tugged at his shirt.

He understood, and seconds later he'd discarded his clothing along with hers before covering her body with his again. He pressed his lips onto the crook of her neck, nipping at her collarbone as his hands swept over the contours of her body down to her thighs. His hand slid up between them, and she quivered as he pressed two fingers into the hot, wet folds between her legs.

He caught her cry of pleasure with his lips as he expertly moved and curled them upwards inside of her, sweeping the pad of his thumb over the sensitive nub of flesh, kneading and simultaneously stimulating her senses.

Her legs quivered, and her fingernails pressed moon crescent shapes into his shoulder blades as she cried out with pleasure into his mouth. "Please, Mamo-chan," she pleaded desperately.

She moaned mournfully as he pulled away for a moment, his eyes fixed tenderly onto her face as he lifted her hips, aligning his body with hers. He leaned down, pressed his cheek against hers, nibbling on her earlobe as he reached down between them, parted her slick folds and in one desperate movement plunged into her, burying himself in her hot, wet, warmth.

Their synchronized moans of pleasure echoed around them as he stopped, and allowed her a moment to adjust to him. He felt her tightening and pulsing around his hardened length as her hips began to move, creating unbearably delicious friction as she ground herself against his body from beneath him.

He hesitated one last time, trembling with the willpower it took to maintain control, as he pressed his forehead onto to hers, his eyes clenched shut and his breathing ragged. "Usako," he whispered, the question etched painfully into his tone.

She sighed softly, wrapped her legs around his hips and arched her back, effectively burying him to the hilt inside her, silently urging him to continue. He lost whatever control he'd maintained up until that point, and with a guttural groan, pulled out before slamming back into her.

He was trapped in a haze of pleasure as his pace quickened, his movements became more frenzied as he continuously thrust in and out of her. The sound of her mewls and moans fueled him to move faster, press deeper until he could tell by the tone of her cries that she was close, and _damn_, so was he.

He could feel the sweet pull of release building inside of him, but he couldn't let go. Not until she did too. He reached in between them, pressing his thumb onto the sensitive nub of her core, kneading in tandem with each thrust.

Her legs quivered and pulsed around him, and he crushed his lips onto hers just as she cried out with the sweet release of orgasm. With one final thrust and a feral groan, he followed suit before collapsing on top of her.

He pressed a tender kiss onto her lips as he shifted onto his back, pulling out of her so that she wouldn't have to bear the brunt of his weight. He pulled her back into his arms, and she lay her head on his shoulder, her fingers splayed out on the hard expanse of his chest along with the golden locks of her hair.

He didn't say anything as their breathing gradually slowed, and he lifted a hand, tentative and unsure now, and stroked her hair. His eyes fixed onto the ceiling, and he swallowed nervously. Surely, after everything, she would say it now. She would admit what he already knew was true, her memories would be restored and they would be pulled out of this heart-wrenching world of sorrow, and back to the real world where things made sense, and she wasn't broken and drowning in despair.

He trailed his hand down the length of her spine and peered down at her. "Usako?" he whispered questioningly, but she didn't respond.

He gently pulled her hair off of her face, his fingers grazing her cheek and sighed softly with the realization that she was fast asleep. It had, admittedly, been an emotional day, so he merely pulled her close, and tucked her tightly to his side.

He closed his eyes, a determined resolve coiling around him. His hold tightened around her, she moaned softly in her sleep, and he vowed that no matter what happened, he would get them out of this mess. No matter how many nightmares they had to wade through, or how many times he needed to remind her who she was. He planned to fight tooth and nail the moment they were freed from this. But tonight, he just wanted to hold her.

oOo

He woke slowly, disoriented and bleary-eyed. The sounds of the waves crashing onto the beach were not muffled anymore. He propped himself onto his elbows, turned his head, and blinked into the sunlight pouring in, along with the sounds of the ocean, through the open french doors.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the sunlight before his mind cleared from the foggy haze of sleep and he realized, with a start, that Usagi was absent from the bed. He frowned, his eyes scanning the room in confusion. Usagi was not an early riser. If she was up before him, then it was because she couldn't sleep.

He exhaled nervously, stretching the kinks out of his neck as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The sheets tangled up on his waist and he raked a hand through his hair. If Usagi couldn't sleep, it was because something was bothering her. He hoped to God it wasn't the decision to be with him last night. He'd made sure, _absolutely sure, _that it was what she'd wanted, too. So he hoped that her reason for being awake so early was because she'd finally realized that she was in love with him again. He just needed to hear the words. She must feel it now, after everything, _right_?

Still, he could feel the painful uncertainty unfurling in his chest as he stood, pulled on a pair of shorts and his red Keio University t-shirt. The pain that had been implanted into Usagi in this nightmare, although completely contrived, had been wheedled so profoundly that the grief was etched into every layer of what made up Usagi. He'd seen it, in her eyes, in her movements, and in the way she did _everything_ in this world. He knew that he'd managed to untangle a lot of the sorrow-filled webs that had been weaved inside of her, but he still wasn't sure yet.

Unfortunately, all of the pain she felt was because of him in this world. Had what he'd done been enough for her to love him again, or at least admit it out loud?

He stepped out of the bedroom, his bare feet burning slightly on the hot sand as he scanned the horizon. She was there, just off in the distance, staring wistfully out into the waves. She was a beautiful, almost ethereal, vision against a breathtaking backdrop; the sun slowly rising, a pink and red tinge casting the darkness aside, as morning rose over the endless expanse of the beach. She was wearing a thin sweater, her arms wrapped around herself as the wind whipped and pulled blond strands of hair from the hastily crafted braid.

He took a deep, cleansing breath and made his way to her. The sound of the waves and the wind, masked any noise he might have made with his approach, so she jumped as his hands lightly grasped her arms from behind.

She peered over her shoulder, blinking up into his face, and his heart sank at the look etched onto its contours. It was not the bright, beautiful expression that _his_ Usagi would have given him after a night together.

A soft smile curled onto her lips, but there was still a deep-seated sorrow layered in the pools of her eyes. "Mamo-chan," she murmured, twisting her body around so that she was facing him. His hands automatically trailed down the length of her arms and settled onto her hips. "Good morning," she whispered, and her words were tentative and unsure.

He frowned, swallowing around the panic tightening his throat. _No. _She loved him. Dammit, she _had _too. "Usako," he said, and he was pleased to note that there wasn't _a hint_ of the terror-filled anxiety that was bubbling up inside of him present in his voice. "Is everything alright?" he asked softly because he didn't know what else to say.

She tilted her head to the side, and he held his breath, his heart pounding as she averted her gaze and bit her lower lip nervously. _No. _"Mamo-chan, the past couple of days have been amazing," she whispered raggedly, and his hands tightened on her waist. She looked up again, and her eyes were wide, full, and filled with sadness. "It's everything I wished for, this version of you. It's who I fell in love with, and if you had done this, even six months ago, I think it would be different -" he could feel it coming, the fucking words that he didn't want to hear. These emotions going through her weren't real, dammit. This _wasn't _their life.

He pulled her into his arms, crushed her body to his chest, and his hands trembled as he wrapped his arms around her. "Usako," he said hoarsely, dropping his head and pressing his lips onto her shoulder. "Please, don't finish that sentence," he pleaded desperately.

She _didn't_ finish her sentence, and her arms tentatively curled around his waist. He took a deep breath, lifted his head and peered down into her upturned face. "I love you. More than anything," he said forcefully.

Her eyes widened, and she was silent for a moment as her sad sapphire gaze, met the intensely desperate cobalt blue of his. "But, Mamo-chan. Will you love me like this when we're home again? Or is this just going to be another thing I'm going to have to survive?" she whispered brokenly.

_Screw this nightmare. _He was done with this. He couldn't stand seeing the pain and uncertainty tearing her up anymore. With an anguished groan, he cradled her face in his hands. "I'm not going to change, Usako," he breathed, his face inches from hers. "Do you love me, Usagi?" he demanded, and he knew, _he should have known, _that it didn't work like that. He couldn't force the words from her lips.

She considered his question for what seemed like an eternity, before responding. "I don't know, Mamo-chan. I'm confused," she murmured, and his heart sank into the pit of his stomach. The look of utter despondency must have been written onto his face, because she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned up and pressed a tender kiss onto his lips, before pulling away again. "I want to _try, _though. I want to work on this, I just need more time," she pleaded, before resting her head onto his chest, tucked comfortably beneath his chin. "Will you give me more time, Mamo-chan? To let go of all the … pain?" she whispered, her tone imploring and tinged with hesitancy.

He wanted to scream with frustration. She loved him, but the pained memories of this world wouldn't allow her to completely forgive him enough to admit it out loud. He clenched his eyes shut, took a deep breath and forcibly exhaled the defeat and disappointment. This nightmare was _not_ going to win. He would get them out of here, no matter how _fucking_ long it took.

He tightened his arms around her and pressed a gentle kiss onto her forehead. "Yes, Usako. I'll prove to you that I want this," he murmured, and she sighed and melted into his embrace. "You can take all of the time you need. In the meantime, I can love you enough for the both of us," he said softly.

This was not the ending he'd anticipated for this trip to Jamaica. He'd hoped that it would end with her heartfelt declaration, and then him standing beside his Senshi clad warrior princess as they promptly destroyed the monsters that were torturing them here. He sighed softly, forcibly let go of his expectations and the disappointment. He would ride this out with her to the very end. He would not lose. Not to this nightmare, and not to the false grief that went with it. _No matter how long it took._

oOo

Though it hadn't entirely turned out as he'd anticipated, he did have to admit, the 16-hour flight back to Tokyo was considerably more enjoyable than the trip there. Usagi, while still apprehensive about her feelings towards him, was markedly brighter, warmer, and definitely _not _opposed to his touch anymore.

He was definitely _not _opposed to the amount of time that she opted to spend in his arms either, and when she wasn't curled up in his embrace, it was because she was eating. He was secretly relieved when she didn't turn down any of her in-flight meals this time, and though her appetite was still not up to par with his insatiable Usako, it was still a good indication that he truly was on the right track. It strengthened his resolve, and the last of his disappointment melted away with his newfound determination. He was _so close._

He could already see the sorrow melting away. He only needed a couple more days to prove to her that he was just as devoted to her in what she believed was their day-to-day life as he was in Jamaica, and she would admit the love he _knew _she already felt. He would have _preferred _to have escaped this nightmare altogether, but if he was going to be here, he definitely preferred _this _version of his Usako, as opposed to the one that had hated him.

She'd fallen asleep, her head on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her waist, at about the 11th-hour mark of their trip. He fixed his gaze out of the oval-shaped plane window into the darkness of the sky whirring by, his index finger absentmindedly tracing circles on Usagi's arm, as he lost himself deep in thought. He was carefully crafting a detailed plan to coax a confession from the blonde curled up beside him when his eyes, of their own accord, closed and he fell into a restless sleep.

He wasn't sure how long he'd drifted in and out of consciousness when he was awakened by a smiling, redheaded stewardess. "I'm very sorry to wake you, sir. We're preparing to land, so I am going to have to ask you to buckle your seatbelt," she whispered cordially, glancing back at Usagi who was also still fast asleep. Her head was practically in his lap now, as she slumped over in an awkward position.

He nodded, and, still smiling, the Stewardess continued down the aisles, conveying the same message to the other passengers.

He winced as he stretched the kinks out of his neck, leant over his sleeping wife, and tenderly swept a wispy curl off of her face before gently shaking her awake. "Usako, it's time to wake up. We're landing," he murmured softly, and she moaned, stirring beside him as her eyes fluttered open. "We're almost home," he said, his smile doting as he watched her sit up, yawn loudly, and stretch slender arms above her head.

"Mm, home?" she sighed questioningly, still dazed, before the clouded look in her eyes cleared. He watched with puzzled amusement, as a red tinge crept, quite adorably, across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, "Oh…" she murmured, nibbled her lower lip anxiously, a look of dismay washing over delicate facial features. "I wanted to ask you something… before… before we got here," she stammered with embarrassment, wringing her hands nervously.

He frowned, confused, and, quite honestly, terrified by what she was going to say. At this point, he'd learned that he should always expect another obstacle; that whoever was orchestrating this nightmare had purposefully inserted heart-wrenching twists and turns into _everything_. So he mentally prepared himself for the worst as he took her hands into his, effectively stilling the nervous habit, before peering down into her eyes. "Usako, what is it?" he asked softly, his brow furrowed with curiosity.

Her face reddened even more, and his breath hitched at the alluring sight. "I was hoping, that when we got home," she choked on her words, exhaling a frustrated breath, as she fixed her eyes onto their intertwined hands. "I don't even know why this is so difficult for me. So I'm just going to say it," she said, her words spilling out of her mouth in quick, Minako-like fashion. _Damn_, he was _really _nervous now. "When we get home, I want to move my things back into your - er- _our _bedroom," she said it all in one breath, her eyes burning with the fear of _rejection_, as she stared up at him.

It took a moment for her request to register, and his shoulders relaxed instantly, relief washing through his tensed muscles, as he inwardly sighed. _What was he going to have to do to dispel all of her insecurities? _It was apparent to him now that the reason she _wouldn't _say that she loved him out loud - _because she clearly loved him - _was because she didn't trust him not to break her heart again.

She was watching him, unnecessarily nervous about his response. He smiled widely, shook his head in exasperation, then swept down and passionately claimed her lips with his own. She melted against him just as the plane landed, with jarring impact, onto the tarmac at the international airport in Tokyo.

He hadn't needed to answer. It was evident in the way her lips moved beneath his that the kiss was a sufficient enough response.

oOo

Usagi was practically dead on her feet when they finally walked through the doorway into the genkan. It was still relatively early in the afternoon, but the flight and the emotional toll of the past couple of days were admittedly wearing down on his blue-eyed blonde who yawned loudly as she stumbled ahead of him into the darkened interior of the hall.

He smiled softly as he steadied her. The Usako of this world was a relatively graceful version of the one he knew and loved, so it was nice to see a bit of her clumsiness seep through. With one hand still resting on her waist, he leaned over and flicked on one of the many light switches lining the wall. He'd managed to choose the correct one, and it effectively lit up the whole house.

Usagi yawned again, before swivelling around to face him. She slowly lifted delicately slender arms above her head, stretching out tense muscles with an enticing moan, before curling them around his neck. His breath hitched in his throat as he lovingly peered down into her smiling face, and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist. Just because she looked so damn adorable, and because they'd settled into something sweet and tenderly comfortable, he leaned down and placed a playful kiss on the tip of her nose.

Her eyes lit up, and she giggled drowsily before dropping her head onto his shoulder. "It feels nice to be home, Mamo-chan," she murmured sleepily. He rested his chin on the top of her head. Her silky hair tickling his jaw as he smiled sadly. This wasn't home for him. It wasn't for her either, and he was eager to get them back to where they belonged.

With a tender kiss and a gentle squeeze, he released her and stepped back. "Why don't you go upstairs, take a nap, and I'll fix us some dinner?" he said gently, as he studied her beautifully flushed face. He was confident that she'd admit her love for him by the end of the day, then this would be over.

Her smile widened, and she nodded gratefully. "Do you want me to bring our stuff upstairs?" she questioned, though her tone of voice indicated that she didn't really _want _too.

He shook his head, "No. Go, Usako. We can take care of it later," he said warmly, and her smile brightened.

She took a step towards him, propelled herself onto the tips of her toes, playfully kissed his lips before swivelling around, and bounding up the steps. He chuckled, his eyes lingering appreciatively on the curves of her figure as she disappeared before he turned towards the white countered kitchen that actually seemed a little cozier today.

He pulled open the fridge doors. It was strange to still see it fully stocked with ingredients. Although, he supposed it wouldn't all go bad in three days. It just felt like they'd been gone for so much longer. He frowned, thoroughly confused by the complexities of this world. _How was any of this even possible?_

He internally contemplated all of the intricate details that had been carefully crafted into these nightmares as he pulled out randomly chosen ingredients to whip something up for them.

He allowed his mind to race through all of the potential possibilities for the new enemy that they were now facing as he absentmindedly chopped, diced, and cooked their dinner. He was so deeply entrenched into his internal musings that he didn't notice Usagi standing in the threshold of the kitchen.

"Get out."

The sound of her voice was ragged, broken and filled with a burning intensity that was even more heart wrenching than when he'd first spoken to her the morning after waking up in this place. It startled him, and his gaze snapped to hers in narrowed confusion.

Her posture was stiff, unyielding, her skin a pale alabaster colour devoid of her usual blush. What really ripped at his heart, and caused his breath to quicken in terror, though, was the _look _in her eyes.

Tears were rolling unchecked down her cheeks, leaving tear-stained trails of pain, and her eyes were filled with a devastation that was _worse _than anything he'd ever seen. It was more than just the devastation, though. There was a broken-hearted and disappointed contempt threaded there, too.

He dropped the knife he'd been using. It clattered noisily onto the cutting board, and the sound echoed loudly around them. He twisted around and reached out for her, but she pulled away, hissing brokenly through her teeth. His heart skipped a painful beat in the cavity of his chest. _What the hell had happened?_

With narrowed eyes of confusion, his hands still frozen in midair, he took another tentative step towards her. "Usako, what's wrong?" he questioned, and the panic rising with startling terror in his throat was seeping into his tone.

She stepped back in tandem with his step forward, her body trembling with rage. "What's wrong?" she spat hoarsely, her tone laced with disbelief. "You want to know what's _wrong?" _she was choking on her words, and he felt like he was choking too. What had happened in the twenty minutes since she'd gone upstairs?

He reached for her again, because he didn't know what else to do, the confusion so clearly etched on his face as his mind raced with everything that might have happened. Was this another fucking twist? He'd done everything _right_!

"Usako-" he began with desperation, but she furiously interrupted him.

"Don't call me that, Mamoru," she hissed. "You cold-hearted son of a bitch. I believed you… I believed that you …" she couldn't finish her sentence as a broken-hearted sob of agony tore from her lips.

He didn't give a damn that she'd demanded her space. He closed the gap between them and clasped her arms in a firm grip, fully intending on pulling her into his arms. She let out a cry of fury as she forcibly pushed him away.

He stumbled back, bracing his hands on the counter behind him. He was internally screaming in frustration. This nightmare _fucking sucked_, and he was done with it. He was tired of watching her break over and over again. What the fuck had _happened? _He'd been so _damn _close!

He wanted to scream at the _injustice_ of whatever secondary twist had been wrought into this hellhole. Instead, he took a deep breath and calmly faced down his crushed, agonized, _reason for breathing. _"Usako, what did I do?" he whispered, and his tone was deathly quiet, though very audible, even over the sound of her ragged breathing,

She laughed then, and it was a hysterical sound he'd never heard before. "I went upstairs, to sleep, in _our bedroom_," she sneered derisively, the words dripping with disdain from her lips. It was a tone he never wanted to hear from her again. "And it was there. Just sitting on the side table, charging and _untouched,_" the anguish was replacing the derision now, and she clenched her eyes closed, drowning in pain.

He didn't know what she meant, and his heart began to hammer inside of his chest. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, and this time his words were harsh, too.

The red-rimmed, sapphire-blue of her eyes burned hotly as she slowly lifted her hand, waving a sleek faced, black cell phone at him. He'd never seen it before, but he knew that it must have been his. His breath hitched painfully in his throat. He didn't know what the hell she'd seen on 'his' cell phone, but, based on his knowledge of the Mamoru of this world, he could only _imagine _what horrors were saved on there. The thought caused his throat to constrict with terror.

When he didn't say anything, at a loss for words, the unfettered fury in her eyes melted away into a look of anguished defeat that ripped at his heart. "Can you imagine how I felt?" she whispered with slumped shoulders, her fingers clenched around the phone so tightly her knuckles were turning white. "You said you needed a break from technology, so I wasn't surprised to see all the notifications flashing on your screen," her tear-filled eyes met his gaze. "I should have left it, but you're so different now, and I was _curious._" He could only watch, his face whitening, a painful dread unfurling in his chest. "It's like you don't even care, you haven't even bothered to change your fucking password."

He needed to say something. This wasn't real… whatever she'd found on that phone was not really _him._ It was a trick, a twisted sick joke. "Please, Usagi," he pleaded. "I'm not sure what you think you've found-" he began, but she coldly interjected.

Her eyes hardened icily as she glared at him. "What I _think I've found?"_ she snapped furiously, "Do you mean the hundreds of text messages from my _best friend_ carefully sending you every single message I've ever sent to her _about you_? Was that how you knew _exactly _what to say to me, Mamoru?" She demanded, and he inwardly cursed Minako. "Or do you mean _this," _she snapped, furiously, swiping across the screen and prodding it angrily.

The sound of Ami's voice, in the form of a voicemail echoing from 'his' phone, caused his heart to skip a beat in frozen horror.

"_Hey… I just spoke with Kunzite, and he told me that you've gone off to Jamaica with Usagi. I have to admit, I was a little confused at first and really hurt, too, Mamo-chan. I mean, how can you say you love me, and that you're going to leave her one second, and then take off to Jamaica with her the next? I thought about it… and I know you're worried about setting off her drinking problem again. So…. whenever you're ready, I'll be here, Mamo-chan."_

The horrifying recording ended with a deafening click. His breathing quickened, and the bile rose in his throat at the despair curling around him. Her eyes, angry, broken, _devastated_, were glaring at him expectantly. She was waiting for him to say something, to deny it even. But how could he, when she'd seen the undeniable proof that was curled like a venomous snake in her hand?

There had to be a way to salvage this. To fix what the bodiless monsters had _done _to them. It wasn't going to end like this. He wouldn't allow them to stay trapped in this nightmare for a second longer.

He took a step towards her. How could he make her understand? By the hardened look in her eyes and the unyielding demeanour with which she faced him, he knew that the devotion and endless patience he _would_ have used to coax a confession from her was _no longer an option._

His heart was aching with the dread and the pain of what he needed to do now. "I'm sorry, Usako," he whispered remorsefully. Her eyes widened in horror, and she gasped, a look of pure agony contorting her delicate facial features. With a quick swipe of her hand, she violently smashed the phone onto the marbled counter. It shattered, splintered pieces of glass, steel and plastic skidding in all directions.

He knew that she'd been expecting a denial, _any kind of denial, _and it was shredding him into pieces to see her like this. "Get out," she cried brokenly, crossing her arms and clutching her biceps so tightly he was sure she was leaving crescent-shaped marks on the soft surface of her skin.

He wanted to scream, to hyperventilate, to shake the memories back into her. Instead, he ignored the unbearably pressing urge and closed the gap between them, again, clasping her shoulders and pulled her towards him. This time he did not step back when she tried to push him away.

"No, I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly, the tone of his voice deathly calm, which in no way reflected the terror churning around inside of him. There was a chance, _a huge one_, that this wouldn't work.

Her head snapped up, her eyes seething as she pushed him again. He was expecting it when she lifted her hand in the air, and with all the strength she could muster, slapped him. He gritted his teeth as the stinging sensation from the forceful impact resonated painfully across his face. It must have felt cathartic, because she lifted her hand to strike him again, but this time he clasped her wrist to stop her.

She struggled against him, but he would not, _could not, _let her go. He would _never _let her go. "Why are you angry, Usako?" he demanded, and he hated himself for asking it, for pushing her further than he had any right too.

She gasped furiously, her face red with rage, her eyes filling with disbelief at the audacity of his question. "Are you _fucking _kidding me? Why am I _angry?" _she practically screeched, the sound pierced his ears and his heart. "Because you're a heartless _monster_, Mamoru," she seethed.

He shook his head, tightened his hand around her wrist and wrapped his other hand around her waist. "No, that's not it, Usako," he whispered, his voice breaking with strained emotion. "Those are words of hatred. What I did wouldn't hurt so much if you hated me. Why are you angry, Usako?" This had to _work. _He just needed to hear the words.

She froze, the blood draining from her face as she glared up at him, a fresh onslaught of tears welling in her eyes. "Why are you doing this to me?" she choked the words out, her body trembling with sorrow. His vision swam with tears of his own, and he almost stopped. But he knew that it would be worse for her if he didn't press her harder.

He steeled his resolve, and tightened his arm around her more firmly. "Why would this make you angry, Usako? Why do you care?" he demanded, and _fuck_, it was heartless. It was cruel. But he _had _to do it.

She stopped struggling, and her body slumped against him as she whimpered on her despair. "How can you even ask me that?" she sobbed, and he had to hold her up to keep from falling now.

The tears he hadn't meant to shed were rolling hotly down his face now, too, but he blinked them back, his heart clenching painfully in his chest. "Do you even care, Usako?" She did. _Of course she fucking did. _ And he hated himself even more for even asking this of her, but he had too. He _had_ to get them out of here.

She stiffened in his arms again, inhaling sharply at the cruel words he'd dared to ask her, as her intensely burning gaze met his. "Fuck you, Mamoru. You know why it hurts me," she whispered angrily.

He lowered his face so that it was only inches from hers. Her chest was heaving with emotion; her ragged breath warmly fanning across his face. "Why?" he demanded, and it was all he could manage. He couldn't do this anymore if she didn't cave. He was done after this. He would languish here, search for another way, no matter how long it took, but he couldn't bear to purposefully hurt her anymore.

Luckily, he was not faced with that horrible possibility. With all of the seething anger, sorrow, and the burning intensity of her _love _for him, the flashing sapphire hues of her eyes firmly met his gaze. "Because I love you! I love you, you stupid…" she trailed off, inhaling sharply, an array of emotion flashing across her face.

He nearly wept, crumpled to the ground in blissful relief as he watched her eyes narrow in confusion before they widened with _recognition. _It was _over_. She _remembered_.

She gasped, and her hands shook as she tenderly cradled his face. He exhaled deeply, all of the tension coiled into his muscles seeping away as his trembling hands covered hers.

She shook her head with frustrated confusion. "Mamo-chan," she choked. "Oh my God. This isn't real," she whispered, still bewildered, and trying to decipher the difference between her real memories, and the false ones that had been expertly weaved into her mind. "Mamo-chan, how long do we have?" She whispered hoarsely, a terrified urgency laced into her tone as she pulled her hands out from beneath his and curled her arms around his neck.

He buried his face into the golden locks of her hair, breathing in the lavender and vanilla scent, as he wrapped his arms around her. "I don't know. It seems to get a little longer each time it happens," he whispered, as he lifted his head and stared into her eyes, and they were _her eyes _this time.

He felt defeated, utterly exhausted from the emotionally draining experience of this nightmare. But Usagi's eyes hardened with determined resolve. His Senshi warrior princess was back and ready to fight. "Mamo-chan, it's alright," she whispered _tenderly, _and the loving tone in her voice nearly broke him. "It's going to be okay. If we just get the others then…"

The familiar buzzing sound was deafening as it echoed around them and he clutched at her desperately because he knew what that meant. This nightmare was over, and _they _were going to rip them apart again. He couldn't do it. He couldn't face another world like this.

She pressed her lips to his ear, her fingers lacing into the ebony locks of hair at the back of his head. "Mamo-chan, whatever happens, don't give up. I love you," she whispered desperately, but also with a firm conviction that filled him with strength and a renewed determination.

He was going to tell her that he loved her too, and he would _never _give up, but it was too late. She was forcibly ripped from his arms once again, and everything went black.


End file.
